


OTP: Hug And Fly

by XtaticPearl



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Comic), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, High School, Humor, M/M, Mild Angst, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-03 00:10:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 22,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12737103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: Tumblr prompt fills featuring Steve and Tony.





	1. High School AU : Nerd Tony and Skinny Baseball Player Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “That’s starting to get annoying”

Tony will maintain it for years that it all started because of Natasha, probably because  _he_  had done it because of her, but on the day that it happened he was more focused on Coach Phillips.

Or rather the student he was berating in the middle of the field. 

“He’s never going to stop, is he?” Rhodey asked and Tony hummed distractedly, reading the notes Hammer had screwed up for their punishment (or project as the professor called it, but  _that_  guy didn’t have to read through Justin Hammer’s chicken scrawl). Rhodey’s elbow met his side and Tony jerked, blinking as he looked up from the file, frowning at his best friend who simply nodded his head in the direction of the field. The stands were a good place to stay focused, unlike the library where Thor found every chance to make-out with Jane over space innuendos. The field’s audience stands were mostly empty and people were always distracted by the players to annoy Tony, so he and Rhodey came to work out their projects there sometimes. 

It wasn’t helpful though if Rhodey got distracted by the players too. 

“What?” Tony asked and Rhodey rolled his eyes before turning Tony’s face in the field’s direction. 

“Steve,” Rhodey said, as they watched the blond boy getting into another one of his stubborn arguments with the Coach, “This is the fifteenth time he has tried to get a try-out with Phillips. The guy just won’t stop.”

Tony eyed Rogers, thin, kinda pale (but maybe that was the Irish skin),  _definitely_  asthmatic; they had watched the guy’s best friend, Barnes, almost deck Hodge when the burlier boy had stolen Steve’s inhaler once. It was only funny because Steve decked the dumbass successfully after Wilson had pulled Barnes off Hodge. They didn’t move in the same groups, Tony and Rogers or his friends, and the only interaction Tony  _really_  remembered with the guy was when Tony had corrected Rogers’ physics project once. In hindsight maybe he could have said it better but back then Tony had only intended it as a correction and yet it had somehow become an insult to sound. 

It was probably why they didn’t move in the same groups. 

“Maybe he just wants to hit some balls,” Tony said and Rhodey snorted, the bad pun resonating with his dumb humour too. 

“At this rate, he’s gonna be lucky if Phillips’ boys don’t kick  _his_  balls,” Rhodey shook his head and Tony shrugged but eyed Steve mulishly standing his ground even as the coach escalated from arguing to yelling. 

It was an - interesting thing to watch. Till Pepper called for them from near the stairs and they both had to rush to be late for another class.

Tony didn’t know why it stuck in his head but he began noticing Rogers a bit more after that day, quietly watching him walk through the school halls with back ramrod straight and eyes clear straight. His jaw would clench when people giggled at his back but Rogers -  _Steve_  would walk on. Tony watched as Steve’s lockers would stink on days that Rumlow felt bored and Steve calmly cleaned it out but also told Rumlow what was what on his face (even if that gave him a split lip). Barnes would try to discreetly share his sandwich and Steve would take a bite but then hold a tight smile for the rest of the day. 

It wasn’t - a thing, really. Tony was just good at observing things, at categorizing and analyzing data. It came naturally to him and Steve just happened to be an interesting subject to analyze.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who thought so. 

“You don’t have asthma,” Natasha Romanoff announced one day, during lunch, when she invited herself to Tony’s table and calmly sat there like she hadn’t been death-glaring him ever since they began school. 

“I - also don’t have hearing problems but that could be a new development,” Tony said slowly as he put his sandwich back down and eyed the redhead, “Did you just talk to me?”

“You also use sarcasm as a shield to hide honest reactions or thoughts,” she declared like they were going for the gold on horrifying observations of Tony Stark 2kforever. 

Tony deeply regretted taking Rhodey’s advice about lunch and wished he had continued to starve himself in the lab, where equipment didn’t talk and people with sharp jade eyes didn’t stare at him from across a table. 

“Is this a dare? Are you here for a bet?” Tony almost looked around to see where Romanoff’s weird buddy Barton was but the redhead simply quirked her lips, something like a smile gracing her face.

“You don’t have asthma,” she repeated her first observation but continued, biting into her apple sharply, “but you had an inhaler ready yesterday when Steve needed it.”

“It was Bruce’s,” Tony shrugged, hearing Kill Bill sirens of  _Lie! Lie!_  going off in his head and Romanoff raised an eyebrow but something like mirth entered her eyes.

“You also don’t carry graphite pencils,” she added, waving her apple vaguely, “but you had one when you ‘dashed’ into Steve yesterday.”

“It was  _his_  pencil -”

“I saw you sneak it out of your pocket,” she cut him off and Tony wondered if this was how criminals felt in court. Of course, she had to make it worse when she added, “And it was clearly new.”

“You do have a point to this?”

Natasha eyed him for a minute, searching for who knew what on his face before she leaned forward and smiled, both terrifying and confusing Tony. 

“You know how you’re trying to be subtle about your crush on Steve and -”

“What? No!”

“-trying to be nice to him without  _actually_  being nice to him -”

“You’re literally imagining things”

“-  _that’s_  starting to get annoying,” Natasha finished, propping his chin on a hand and still smiling at Tony, a small tilt of her lips that either meant that Tony needed a shield or a drug test for hallucinogens.

“I don’t have a crush on him,” Tony maintained and caught sight of Barton over her shoulder, entering the cafeteria, “but  _your_  boyfriend is here.”

Natasha simply stared at Tony for a minute before shrugging and getting up with her tray.

“When you  _do_  end up doing something about it,” she said as she moved away from the table, “try not to make anything explode? It’ll be a shame to see Steve brooding over you getting into trouble for the billionth time. “

“You’re the least entertaining daydream I’ve had!” Tony informed her but she simply grinned before walking towards Barton, leaving Tony feeling flustered.

Tony didn’t know if Natasha had ever told Steve about it but he had never been able to get the conversation out of his mind. 

If he had passed it off as observation before, it was impossible to do the same now. 

Rhodey gave him strange looks whenever Tony brought extra snacks and carelessly left them in places where Steve would frequent. Pepper rolled her eyes when Tony trashed Steve’s bike ‘accidentally’ and ‘had to’ fix it for him, unknowingly adding some upgrades to it. Bruce steadfastly ignored him whenever Tony pissed Rumlow off to divert the attention from Steve.

It was probably not subtle anymore, but Tony didn’t have to acknowledge it till it was slapped across on his face.

Or kissed, as he found out a few months later when he dazedly stared as Steve Rogers leaned away from him, having run across the field to climb up and plant a kiss on Tony after scoring his first home-run.

The crowds were growing wild around him and Tony distractedly thought that his mouth was hanging open but his eyes were glued to Steve’s grinning and flushed face, a little nervous now.

“What?” he asked, not caring that his voice sounded hoarse.

“You - uh,” Steve looked flustered but then continued, “Your whole flirting thing, it - uh, that’s starting to get annoying.”

“I have a  _great_  flirting thing, excuse you,” Tony said on automatic mode, wincing internally but then Steve’s eyes softened even as his smile turned into a smirk.

“It’s annoying when you don’t let me flirt back like a normal person, you dork,” he said and his wild azure eyes flickered down to Tony’s lips before looking back up, “Sorry, uh, if that was - shit, I just - did I -”

Tony thought about the days when he sat in the same stands to ignore people. When it just meant getting away from distractions. He watched Steve’s face grow pink in embarrassment and decided that some distractions were probably meant to be. 

“Alright,” Tony said and pulled Steve in by his collar, whispering against his lips, “flirt back, then.”

The stands got visited a lot more often after that. Tony found that the players, one in particular, was quite worth the distraction. 

 


	2. Laser Tag Game with Established Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

Steve had a habit of noting faults. 

Well, not  _faults_  per se, but quirks - habits, styles, those things. Everyone had those and Steve got into the routine of noting them casually, learning people through those. It helped him on the field and in knowing his team well.

With Tony, it was much more  _fun_ than that though. 

The intimate quirks were fascinating and enthralling to learn, spending minute after minute in unravelling the beautiful mystery of his boyfriend and knowing how he ticked. It was a privilege Steve had almost thought not destined when he had missed his chance with Peggy all those decades ago, the chance to love every twist and turn of a mind, body, and soul. The opportunity to be trusted even when he was fallible, to trust in turn to have a warmth through his nightmares and dreams. It was a gift and he felt his chest tighten whenever he thought about it.

The other quirks were - well, amusing to say the least. 

Steve loved knowing and using them in fun ways but for the current purpose, he needed just one quirk. 

“Are you…are you humming  _Titanium_?” Tony asked from across the workshop and Steve stifled his grin as he continued to sketch a memory from a few night ago.

“Maybe?” he answered, darkening the shadows of a pillow on his sheet, finger smoothing over Tony’s outline, “Am I distracting you?”

“You’re  _always_  distracting,” Tony snorted, but Steve could hear the fondness in his tone without looking up, “I just didn’t peg you for a Sia kind of guy.”

The set-up was way too prominent to ignore and Steve looked up from the couch, smiling at his boyfriend.

“You know I like being  _pegged_  for a lot of things, sweetheart,” he said sweetly and enjoyed the way Tony’s eyes darkened even as he burst out laughing at the innuendo. 

As distractions went, it was pretty profiting for both of them after that.

Steve thought that Sam had picked up on something when his friend narrowed his eyes with a small amused smile at them as Steve stressed that Titanium Man definitely had some advantages over Tony during the last fight. They were all lazing around after a surprisingly nice dinner and Steve always liked verbal banter as foreplay with Tony, who got a  _really_  nice flush on his face when the banters got intense. Natasha had once sat through an entire argument about peanuts with a blank face but had later sent both of them a long mail with peanut facts unironically. 

“Oh  _god_ , the suit can handle him! I’ve done tweaks to it, you know that ” Tony argued, pupils dilated even as they kept up the pretence of arguing.

“Sure, but,” Steve shrugged and stared Tony straight in his eyes, “Titanium is a pretty  _hard_ metal.”

Tony had argued the inaccuracy of the science behind that but Steve knew that the quirk had been nurtured again.

He dropped the hint around for the next couple of days as casually as possible, wondering if Tony’s genius mind would catch on but also enjoying this little game. It wasn’t often that he got to pull one over his smart boyfriend.

The day of the laser-tag match, Steve kissed Tony breathless before both of their teams scattered.

“Buttering me up, Rogers?” Tony whispered as they parted, a small smirk on his reddening lips.

“I got nothing to lose,” Steve whispered back, kissing Tony again, “Fire away, Stark.”

It didn’t take long for the game to get intense like all things with the team did. Clint was on fire, sometimes even literally, and Natasha was sniping them out in retaliation to Clint. Sam and Rhodey were half yelling trash talk at each other over barricades and half-making terrible jokes as they tried to get each other. Bruce was surprisingly wily and had taken out Wanda sooner than anybody had expected, simply giving  _Math_  as an explanation. 

None of it mattered all that much to Steve though, who had his eyes set on his prize. 

He knew that he had found his target when he heard the low hum of the song in Bruce’s floor’s kitchen and Steve grinned to himself as he slowly crept towards the voice.

“I’m criticized but all your bullets ricochet. You shoot me down, but I get up,” Tony was bopping his head over the rifle he was inspecting, head bowed and body crouched behind the counter. Steve moved fast and stood right behind his boyfriend.

“I’m bulletproof…” Tony registered a presence behind him and turned to catch Steve waving at him with his own rifle, “but please, don’t shoot me?”

“Nothing to lose?,” Steve grinned and took his shot, laughing at Tony’s yelp, “ _Fire away, fire away..”_

“You - asshole - Steve!” Tony scrambled to his feet and Steve twisted just in time to avoid being hit by the rifle, neatly catching Tony’s wrist and reeling him in.

“I win!” Steve said with a dorky grin and Tony made a face but then frowned.

“Wait, how did you know - holy  _shit_  you tricked me!” Tony accused, laughing despite his incredulous expression, “you got the song into my head!”

“You’re so  _cute_ ,” Steve kissed Tony’s protest and felt him relax against his body, arms curling around his neck before he leaned back and nudged his forehead against Tony’s.

“Cheater,” Tony whispered into the space between them and Steve kissed his nose.

“You got into my heart, so this was pretty small, right?” Steve answered and Tony burst out laughing at the sap, brushing a kiss against Steve’s jaw.

“I’m onto you now though, Rogers,” Tony said with a grin and Steve gathered him closer, knowing that this was probably truer than any quirk.

“Counting on it.”

 


	3. Tony feels alone in the alternate dimension and Steve makes him believe in home again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”
> 
> I’m going with AA because it suits the situation.

Tony didn’t know  _why_  exactly the communication had stopped. 

He’d heard the commotion when the Masters of Evil had attacked the Expo and he had been busy explaining to Steve why the Expo had to happen in the open. He knew that Steve would have to read between the lines a little, to sense his  _need_  for any presence in the world that Tony was still coming back. It was probably to counter his desperation but Tony needed proof that people remembered him. That they knew he existed and was coming back.

Steve had teased him and Tony had smiled at the empty space around him, imagining Steve’s face. It would do that half-smile thing he got when he wanted to be exasperated but couldn’t avoid being fond. It was a pretty constant expression aimed at Tony. 

Tony knew that he didn’t handle being alone well. It was one of the reasons he had built himself friends when people had become dubious. It was also a reason why he had adopted a family when friends became more than teammates. It stabilized him, knowing that they were there, somewhere beyond his current dimension, coming to get him home. 

And then that had shattered when the communication had stopped. 

For the first few days, Tony had worked out all possible situations in his head, clinging to logic and rationale when panic threatened to consume him. The team was fine, he would convince himself, they were capable and the best in the world. They would be fine.

He never addressed if  _he_  would be fine himself. That was a cave he didn’t want to enter.

When the days of logic and rationale faded, Tony had latched onto imagination.

He would laugh at jokes he imagined Sam was making, shaking his head at the spot he would have Steve beside him if they were back home. He fiddled with his useless gauntlet and bickered to himself, imagining Clint’s responses from memory. He shadow-boxed, ducking and taunting an imaginary Natasha. He hummed an Asgardian tune with his eyes closed, imagining Thor singing it off-key. He retold stories about his school, imagining Hulk grunting in amusement beside him.

Imagination kept him alive. It also drove his hopes dead with every day. 

Ranting turned into muttering and muted into silence, and Tony stared at blank spaces, trying to remember how his reflection looked. 

He didn’t know when the communication and hope had stopped but he knew when it reopened, and  _that_  terrified him cold.

“Tony?” he heard Sam’s voice one day, some day after days of no count, and Tony blinked up at the wall in front of him, an illusion to touch, “Tony, can you hear us?”

“Friend Tony?” Thor spoke when Sam’s voice turned away and Tony felt his gauntlet curl a little, “By Odin, tell me you are well!”

Tony had hummed an Asgardian song to sleep for days. It had stopped sounding like a lullaby and become a mourning tune over time. 

“Iron Man?” Natasha’s voice was never loud and Tony wondered if it was because she knew she would be heard or because she had learnt to live in whispers, “Iron Man, respond.”

“Stark, what’s going on?” Clint had the patience of a predator but it never showed in his worry, however stunted it came out. 

“Tony?”

He knew this voice.

“Tony, can you hear us?”

He had waited for this voice. He had imagined this voice through hollow times.

“Tony, -”

A hitch in breath, a gasp of rasping sound left Tony’s mouth and he flinched, not used to his own voice, not used to words leaving his lips for days.

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve had heard it, had heard him and it showed in the painful relief of his tone, “God, thank god, Tony, we’re coming, okay? Dr. Foster almost has your dimension caught on.”

Tony had known lies all his life. He had grown up tasting them, pouring them out for the world to feed on. He knew what they felt like, how they were formed on the tongue.

“Tony? Are you okay?” Steve’s voice was always an open book and Tony could  _hear_  the concern in it, the frown in the dips of his voice.

He bit into his lip and wondered if blood would feel real.

“Tony, please, say something,” Steve asked, sounding closer despite the distance and Tony tasted bitter hope but kept it sealed. A huff sounded through space and Steve spoke again, “Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”

“Ste-Steve?” the word was a sob, a prayer and a plea, and Tony knew that Steve had heard it when there was a sharp hitch, a sudden inhale.

“Tony? Tony, I’m here,” Steve promised, a desperate vow, the last ring of the ladder, “I’m right here.”

Tony wanted to scream that he hadn’t been there. That  _nobody_  had been there. That he had made them all stay even when they hadn’t been there. 

“I want to come home,” he said instead, a muffled confession against his gauntlets. The only confession that mattered when he had nothing left to give.

“I know, Shellhead,” Steve sounded like he was going to cry and Tony heard Clint curse softly in the background, Thor arguing something fiercely with someone, Hulk roaring somewhere. He heard them all, but he wanted just one voice. Just one promise.

“You’re coming home, Shellhead,” Steve said and Tony closed his eyes as he heard a machine whir through the comm, “You’re coming back home.”

Tony didn’t say anything but his next shaky breath was real, swallowing the hope that had been flung his way.

The silence was broken and Tony was given his way back home. 

 

 


	4. Tony loves costumes, Steve loves Tony, and some revelations are made finally.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "The kids, they ambushed me!"   
> I’m doing 616 (in the old happier times) for this, because reasons!

“How..,” Steve took a breath and wrangled the urge to laugh under control as Tony turned a gimlet glare his way, “How did all of this  _happen_?”

Tony had a penchant for dressing up and costumes, something Steve had learnt well enough over the years of Renaissance fairs and Tony’s strange fascination with Comic Cons. He was a stickler for details, eyes seeking out nooks and crannies of every detail necessary to make costumes look ‘believable’, no matter if people didn’t look so closely most often. Steve remembered Jan’s eyes lighting up when Tony came up with costumes that kindled the designer in her.

He  _definitely_  remembered the time Tony had dressed up as Captain America, the costume hugging every inch of him like it had been designed with him in mind.

Steve didn’t think that was far from something that he would have done himself, considering how having Tony in mind was pretty much a constant for him nowadays.

“This is all your fault, just so you know,” Tony declared, standing proud in his Dread Pirate Roberts costume, holding a broken fencing sword. 

“Fascinating how that happened,” Steve answered, letting his eyes roam over Tony casually, silently noting the way Tony’s blue eyes widened a little, “considering that you told me you were going to an  _investors’ meeting_.”

“Steven, you’ve caught bigger lies of mine,” Tony scoffed blithely and Steve wondered what it said about them that such a statement was mere fact and not an awkward accusation, “and you  _know_  that Halloween is near -”

“It’s a month away”

“- and Carol is dressing up as  _Johnny Bravo_  -”

“She hasn’t even decided - wait, what -”

“ - which is  _hilarious_ , well, for  _her_ ,” Tony jabbed his broken sword in Steve’s direction, “So  _obviously_ , I need to get a more classic costume to have better dialogues to quote.”

“So you went with Westley?” Steve asked, not minding the way the black shirt opened at the neck low enough to show Tony’s collarbone and the mask gave a reminiscing quality of the days when Steve could only see Iron Man’s eyes.

“Of course, I did, buttercup,” Tony grinned and Steve rolled his eyes even as he resisted the urge to kiss the grin off the man’s lips. The endearments were a common thing for Tony but Steve could feel his heart clench every time it happened nowadays, ever since he had opened his eyes to the possibility of having more than just a best friend in this man. 

“How does that explain the broken sword and, uh,” Steve coughed to hide the chuckle but it wasn’t completely successful if the way Tony narrowed his eyes was any indication, “the bitten off pants?”

Tony pursed his lips and Steve’s eyes were drawn to them  _again_ , the push to lean forward and close the distance rearing up for the umpteenth time.

Maybe it was that distraction why Steve didn't understand what Tony mumbled at first.

“What?”

“The kids,” Tony repeated, a prim look on his face as he silently dared Steve to laugh, “they ambushed me.”

“Kids”

“Yeah”

“Ambushed you”

“Mmm-hmm”

“Ambushed  _you”_

“You have a wonderful vocabulary this evening, Cap,” Tony said deadpan and Steve blinked at him for a minute before he lost it. Completely and utterly lost it.

“It’s not funny!” Tony protested weakly but Steve was too busy imagining the whole scenario.

“You’ve - you’ve faced evil masterminds in your  _thong_ ,” Steve gasped out in between laughs, grinning at Tony with unabashed glee, “and you had your pants  _bit off_  by kids. In a costume store. Armed with a sword.”

“I am so  _glad_  that you find my humiliation amusing, Winghead,” Tony commented but Steve could see a reluctant smile breaking out on the man’s face, “Stop it, come on.”

“I am never letting this day be forgotten,” Steve promised and Tony rolled his eyes, the smile growing as Steve reached out and ruffled Tony’s hair to tease him. 

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Cap,” Tony informed him, poking Steve in the abdomen with the blunt sword, “You are absolutely no help. None at all.”

“Aww, don’t lie, you love me,” Steve teased and caught Tony stilling, a momentary reaction but pronounced when Steve saw his smile freeze and become numb, brittle and breakable. It was the reaction Tony had when someone tore down one of his numerous veils, took off his unending masks and saw something he had thought invisible to the world.

It was the reaction he got when someone revealed a truth he had locked away in his core.

Steve felt his gut clench when Tony relaxed, a practiced smile taking over and blue eyes averting from Steve’s to glance forward like there were more interesting things to observe.

It was a joke. It was a joke they had both made for years now.

_I know you love me._

_Love you too, Shellhead._

_You know it’s all out of love, Mr. Stark._

Steve had teased Tony for  _years_  with variations of this. Tony had teased him back, always prompt, always ready.

It was a joke. Wasn’t it?

Steve remembered all the times Tony had smiled differently at him. All the times he had been drunk off his mind and had cried only to Steve. All the times he had resisted help but had finally agreed when it was Steve.

All the times when he had called him endearments that he never called his other friends.

The mornings he called him  _beloved_  over a cup of coffee. 

“Tony…”

“I swear, if they weren’t kids, I would have considered fighting -”

Steve could see the gears turning in Tony’s mind, as clear as the dreams he had seen of this. A dream that could slip now if he didn’t grab hold of it.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for months,” he blurted, too sharp, too loud in the rambling torrent of Tony’s monologue. It wasn’t romantic. It didn’t even begin to encompass what he actually wanted to say.

It was everything.

Tony stilled again, the second time in the day, and Steve found blue eyes snapping up to meet him again. Sharp eyes that had always loved him, even when he had been blind.

Tony didn’t ask him to confirm it, repeat it, make him prove it with explanations. He simply stared at Steve, eyes tearing away Steve’s inhibitions and seeking the truth that words never told.

A shuddering breath left his lips and Steve knew that he had been seen. That Tony had found him, the him who loved Tony even before he knew it himself.

“Well,” Tony said, voice a rattle in confidence but clear, absolutely clear in its openness, “Buttercup does deserve a kiss.”

Steve huffed out a chuckle, disbelieving and weak and relieved. This was a dream, he told himself.

The distance was the easiest that Steve had crossed, easier than the leaps he had made through fire and over cracking Earth. Touching Tony’s lips was the most terrifying and satisfying moment Steve had lived through.

This was a dream, he told himself as Tony smiled against his lips.

This was reality, Tony told him as he made Steve smile along with him.

 

 


	5. Bad ghosts are roaming the academy and Tony finally gets the hug he deserves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”
> 
> Thank you! I’ve chosen AvAc for this.

Tony wasn’t superstitious per se. He didn’t believe in salt rings and amulets and - well, a lot of things that didn’t have a scientific explanation behind them. He knew that Loki and Amara and a horde of other magic users would give him pitying looks for not believing in things they clearly did, but he was better with more tangible things.

Things he could build with backdoors and controls.

So it wasn’t a surprise when he scoffed at the idea of ghosts.

“You don’t believe them?” Thor asked, a mild frown creasing his brow even as Cap peered at the sigil Odin had given them to ward off some ‘ghosts’ who had escaped some secret vault.

“Look, big guy, it’s not that I don’t believe them. It’s just that they can’t really be an enemy or harmful or even - well, actually they can’t be real,” Tony explained, “Once you’re dead, how are you supposed to fight anyone? How does that even work?”

“I don’t know, Tony, this looks pretty real,” Cap said when he looked up from the sigil, his trademark serious look fixed on his handsome face, “And it’s our job to treat it seriously.”

Tony rolled his eyes so hard that he was impressed they didn’t fall off.

“You guys take this ‘taking things seriously’ thing way too seriously,” he told them as he nudged the broken case from the vault with his boot, “We can play ghostbusters easily. If they are real. We’ve faced and fought actual, live monsters. What are a couple of dead ghosts gonna do?”

Thor looked concerned and Cap looked disappointed but Tony simply saluted them sloppily and walked away, already planning a ghostbusting armour in his head.

For the first three days, there was no sign of any ghosts detected in the academy and Tony enjoyed teasing Thor and Cap about it, making ghost puns and showing off his design for his new armour.

On the fourth day, Tony got locked into his own bedroom. 

“Jarvis, what’s the malfunction?” he asked as he frowned at the keypad. 

The AI didn’t answer and Tony paused, mind running over possible glitches in the system of the Tower.

“Jarvis?”

The silence was pronounced.

“J, you up?”

The lack of response was eerily discomforting and Tony went to work on manually overriding the access to the room.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?” the AI responded as soon as Tony slipped out of his room and the genius frowned at the nearest camera but resolved to comb through the central codes better later. Must have been a hidden glitch.

Unfortunately, glitches weren’t common in people, and Tony wondered about it for a minute when he caught Jan staring at him through the window with a dull look throughout the time in Pym’s lab.

“Hey,” he caught up with her once the lab work was done, “Is everything okay?”

Jan stared at him vacantly for a complete minute, a hauntingly dead look in her eyes, before she simply walked off, leaving Tony frowning at her.

Tony tried to not let it get to him but things just kept getting - weirder. 

It wasn’t until his own suits malfunctioned and tried to kill him though, that Tony actually panicked.

“Tony? Tony, hey,” Cap caught him when Tony was outright running towards Thor’s building, having discarded his suits in a crippling fear, “Hey, slow down, partner, what’s going on?”

“I need Thor,” Tony struggled against Steve’s grip on his elbow but Steve simply moved in and caught his other elbow too, strangely gentle in his hold as he made Tony face him.

“Hey, talk to me,” Steve said, firm but calming in his concern, “What’s going on?”

“The thing - the ghosts,” Tony could still feel the phantom grip of his suit strangling him and an involuntary shudder went through him.

Steve’s grip shifted and one hand went to his nape while the other rested on his shoulder, a strange advancement to an almost-hug.

“Are you hurt?” Steve asked and Tony shook his head but Steve’s hand rubbed comfortingly at his nape and he felt his head fall forward. Cap was never comfortable with touching, not with Tony as far as he had observed, but he easily moved closer to let Tony rest his head on Steve’s shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay, Shellhead,” he said quietly and Tony had imagined this so much, this chance at a hug, but the fear was still rushing through him and his breath came out in a broken noise.

“They’re real,” he said, muttering into Steve’s uniform, “the ghosts are real, Steve.”

Steve stiffened and Tony felt his panic sharpen again, anger and fear and frustration prickling through him.

“Tony …”

“They’re  _real_ , okay?!” he pushed back from Steve, a burning need to be understood coursing through him, “I know it! I’m not crazy, I swear!”

Steve didn’t push back or argue and simply stared at Tony, grim eyes roving over his face before he nodded.

“Okay”

“Okay?” Tony asked, a hysterical note to his echo but Steve nodded again, stable in his acceptance.

“I believe you,” he said and squeezed Tony’s shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips, “And I know that we can bust some ghosts together.”

Tony felt a chuckle leave his lips and ran his prosthetic hand over his face once, breathing in before he attempted some calm.

“I don’t have the suits,” he confessed but Steve didn’t flinch, didn’t wince or falter.

“We don’t need the Iron Man suit when we have the Man himself with us,” he patted Tony’s shoulder and curled his arm around it, dragging Tony along with him towards Odin’s palace, “C’mon, soldier, let’s go play Ghostbusters today.”

Tony grinned weakly at that but nodded. If he had Steve trusting him, beside him, he would bust as many ghosts as needed. He knew that.

“Avengers Assemble”


	6. Married Natasha Stark and Steve Rogers discuss some doctor issues.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am telling you I am haunted"
> 
> Heyloooo! Okay, I’m going with Earth 3490 because everybody needs some happy Natasha Stark ;)

Steve knew that having staring matches with his wife was an exercise in futility but he had stubbornness ingrained in him and she was his match in that too.

“Are you two planning on maybe,” Bucky popped some more popcorn into his mouth and chewed it open-mouthed because he was  _just_  that side of disgusting sometimes, “I don’t know,  _blinking_ sometime soon?”

“They’re setting the world record on eye-sex,” Clint commented from the beanbag that he had dragged into the Tower from some trashbin specifically to annoy Tasha. It was no wonder that Bucky and Clint had gotten into the on-again-off-again thing with Nat that Tasha admired Nat for maintaining with her sanity intact.

“You’ve seen them have eye-sex for how long now?” Bruce asked mildly from the kitchen, the hum of his old-time kettle a soothing tune to his puttering, “Eye-sex involves more blinking. Slow blinking but definitely involves blinking.”

“This is more like eye-sparring,” Thor observed from the floor where he was braiding Jane’s hair as she focused on her tablet, “More forceful and unyielding.”

“I hope you all know that you’re going to be doing drills for eternity,” Steve said calmly, still holding his wife’s gaze and  _almost_  blinking when her lips quirked into a smirk. That smirk had conquered many battles but this one Steve was determined to win.

“Cap, your eyes are watering,” Nat informed him from beside Clint and Tasha’s lips pursed against a grin but Steve kept at it, swallowing the urge to just  _blink_.

“Super serum,” he responded and finally Tasha raised an eyebrow, somehow doing it without blinking.

“You know that you can’t make the serum a cure-all for every situation, right?” she asked, the scientist in her chiding him, “I mean, this is  _blinking,_ honey. The serum didn’t change that.”

“You’re still holding,” he pointed out and inhaled sharply when she inched closer, lips curving into a lazy smile.

“I’ve stared at boring algorithms and design plans for much longer,” she reminded him, voice a casual drawl that crawled over his skin like a familiar caress, “And I have a  _much_ better subject to look at today.”

“Flattery isn’t winning you the battle today, Ms. Stark,” he commented, teasing and flirting mixing as usual.

“Who cares about the battle when I’ve already won the war, Commander Rogers -Stark?” she asked, a hand lightly caressing his knuckles over his knee and Steve turned his palm to catch her hand in his. 

“You have to go to the doctor, sweetheart”

“Okay, see, no,” she frowned, “I’m not sick, I’m fine. It’s just some bad food.”

“You’ve been feeling off for a while, Shellhead,” Steve reminded her, remembering the way she would feel anxious and fidgety over nothing.

“I bet that’s Enchantress from the last battle,” she said, huffing a little, “I’m telling you, I’m haunted.”

“Yes, because that is  _so much_  more logical than just being sick,” Bucky drawled from across her and Steve laughed when Tasha unerringly threw a cushion at him without taking her eyes off Steve.

“Tell you what,” he said when he saw her eyes soften too, “We’ll call the doctor here and I’ll be there right by your side.”

“I’m not a child, Steve,” his wife said a bit awkwardly but Steve knew of the nightmares she had when she thought about medical procedures. 

“No, but you’re my best friend, and my partner, and my wife,” he said softly, leaning closer, “And you’ve seen me through my worst fears. It’s only fitting that I get to sit by you through this.”

Steve loved his wife’s eyes, the swirl of brown and flecks of amber in them, a mixture of defiance and love in them whenever he caught their sight. 

Those eyes softened and he knew that he had won.

“Fine,” she said and closed her eyes, leaning forward to rest her forehead against Steve’s, “but I deserve the right to eat your share of the ice-cream later and make you visit the med-bay the next time you get hurt.”

Steve simply leaned in and kissed the woman who held his heart, closing his eyes in answer to her claim.

Tasha grumbled through the check-up that they were treating her like a child.

It was probably ironic then that it was revealed that she was actually going to  _have_  a child.

Clint put up a banner of  _Congratulations Haunted House!_  in the celebratory party that followed and Steve knew that he had won the jackpot when Tasha simply rolled her eyes and kissed him under it, eyes closed and heart open.


	7. Newly Married AA SteveTony go Christmas shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dogs don’t wear clothes!”
> 
> Hihihi! Ah, okay, I’m going with AA for this again, because I need some AA characters again!

When Tony had suggested going all-out for Christmas, he hadn’t really considered  _Clint_.

“What about a sandwich shop?” he asked as he idly gazed at the decked out windows they were walking past, his gloved hand tucked neatly into Steve’s coat pocket.

“You can’t buy people sandwich shops, Tony,” Steve answered, slipping his own hand into the same pocket and snugly intertwining their fingers. Tony turned to give his newly wedded husband a  _look_  and Steve amended with a sigh, “You  _shouldn’t_  buy people sandwich shops, Tony.”

“It’s Clint,” Tony shrugged, the snow settled on his burgundy coat looking soft on his shoulder, “You either think of sandwiches or arrows for him. And you specifically said -”

“ - no weapons or tech for Christmas, yes, I remember, honey,” Steve smiled a little, amused at Tony’s annoyance at the  _one_  rule that would prevent him from taking the easy way out of Christmas shopping. Call him petty or selfish, but Steve wanted to go traditional in their first year as a married couple, doing Christmas shopping the way he had imagined people did when they had time and each other.

An impulsive proposal and a rushed wedding set soon after Tony’s return from the alternate dimension had stolen their chance of enjoying all the small things couples could do together, and Steve had the stubborn urge to have what he could from what he had now.

“We could get him his own Playstation again but I  _know_  that he’ll drag it to the common floor and play with Hulk,” Tony grumbled, only half-frustrated as he huddled closer to Steve, “God, why is Barton the only one who’s so difficult to pick for? Even Natasha wasn’t so tough.”

“That’s because you don’t associate Nat to just fighting or spy-work,” Steve laughed a little and resisted the urge to press a kiss against Tony’s cheek, revelling in the casual sweetness of their walk alone. 

Tony made a face and was about to say something when he looked at something in front of them and came to a halt, making Steve almost lose his grip on Tony’s hand.

“Tony?” Steve asked, looking in the direction his husband was staring at and only saw another array of shops.

“Oh, I’m so going to win this gift-giving thing this year!” Tony declared and began dragging Steve by hand, a huge grin on his face.

“It’s not a competition!” Steve huffed in vain but chuckled when Tony tugged him along, almost bouncing on his heels. 

When they reached the pet store, Steve raised an eyebrow but followed Tony into the place, an involuntary smile coming onto his face at the idea he knew Tony was having.

“Hi!” Tony greeted the nearest staff, his blinding smile in place that usually dazzled even celebrities, “We’re looking for a fluffy buddy who likes human food.”

“Tony!” Steve hissed but Tony swatted at his arm and turned to face the bewildered looking staff.

“Sorry, our friend, for whom we want a pet, loves food but does not know the difference between human food and dog food,” Tony explained to the guy even as Steve winced but agreed reluctantly, “So getting a little pal from here who expects dog food but then gets, I don’t know, a tuna sandwich, will definitely not go down well for everyone.”

The staff blinked and looked at Steve, who resisted a sigh but tried an awkward smile.

“Can you help us?” Tony asked expectantly and Steve was ready to drag him out, to avoid getting sued by the pet store owners for assumed animal cruelty or something, when someone called out from behind the staff who was staring at them.

“I got a pizza dog,” an old lady wearing a leather jacket and shades waved at them, “He’s not really smart if you ask me, but your friend doesn’t sound whole lotta brains either.”

“Pizza dog?” Steve asked, determinedly avoiding the comment about smartness.

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “He lives nearby, old Fergie got him from the pound I think, but Fergie doesn’t live there anymore so pizza-dog just kinda roams around the block.”

“He eats pizza?” Tony looked so lit up that Steve smothered the urge to burst out laughing.

“He’s a weird dog,” the lady said with a nod.

“Perfect,” Tony declared and turned to look at Steve like he had discovered Santa was real. Steve rolled his eyes and chuckled at the enthusiasm on Tony’s face, nodding once before turning to ask the lady about this mystery dog.

If Steve thought that getting Clint a strange dog (who got tested at the vet thoroughly, thankfully) was weird, it was nothing compared to what Tony had them do after it.

“This is insane!”

“It’s perfectly necessary,” Tony sniffed and critically eyed two outfits.

“Dogs don’t wear clothes, Tony!” Steve tried again, hushing his voice when a young girl gave him the stink eye.

“You can’t make the dog expose himself, Steven,” Tony picked up a kilt-looking outfit, “Do we expect  _you_  to walk around naked in the Tower?”

Steve stayed pointedly silent and Tony grinned mischievously.

“Okay, so  _I_  wouldn’t mind that, but the thought still stands,” he declared and showed Steve the Hawkeye outfit that was modified to ‘dog size’, “Look! It’s perfect!”

Steve stared at the outfit and then at his husband for a minute. He sighed and shook his head but leaned forward and kissed Tony’s forehead.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Well, yes, of course, darling,” Tony winked and shoved the outfits in the arms of their shopping assistant, “It was right there in our vows, after all.  _In ridiculousness and romance_ , remember?”

Steve rolled his eyes but felt the smile remain on his face even when they showed Clint his new friend and learnt to welcome ‘Lucky’ into their weird family.

 

 


	8. Steve watches Tony with kids over the years and finally discovers the right words to say.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”  
> Going with Earth 616 for this!

The first time Steve had seen Tony with a kid was at a gala. It wasn’t one of those galas where some kids were given a chance to meet some important people or collect an award. It was one of the boring galas, the ones where champagne flowed like water and lies laced laughter. 

Steve hated them. He also didn’t know Tony all that well then, didn’t know that Tony and Iron Man were the same, and had simply stumbled onto the scene by accident. He would maintain for decades that he hadn’t been spying on anyone. 

“May I sit down?”

Steve paused as he was passing by the Van Dyne library and frowned at the voice he heard. It sounded like Tony, but Tony was supposed to be at the party, downstairs, flirting with the Dutch model he had last seen him with.

“Thank you,” the voice came again and Steve had always been naturally curious, even when he shouldn’t have been, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to step closer to the door and peep in, carefully not making a sound. 

He could make the outline of Tony and then the genius billionaire moved to sit, revealing the other participant in the conversation. Steve remembered the kid, the young girl in a periwinkle dress, coming in with some Ambassador’s family. Her little blonde head was bowed and Steve stood there, waiting to see what would happen next.

“You have a really nice watch,” Tony said, quiet but normal in tone, no babying or exaggeration in inflection, “What is that, Quartz?”

The girl stayed silent for a while but then nodded, one hand rising to wipe her cheeks. 

“I like watches,” Tony said simply, a fact, a statement, “Have you ever seen the inside of a watch?”

The girl looked up then and Steve felt a pang of sadness at the red-rimmed eyes but Tony was calm, open and kind. The girl nodded quietly and Tony removed his own watch, peeling it off his wrist before pulling a mini-tool set from his jacket.

As Steve watched, Tony Stark calmly and patiently disassembled his precious watch, explaining every part and mechanism to the girl who had gone from a wobbling lip to curious eyes. 

By the time Tony had finally re-assembled the watch, the girl looked calmer, eyes brighter, and Tony held out a hand to her.

“It was nice meeting you, Ms. Kim,” he said with a kind smile and Steve felt his own lips quirk when the girl somberly shook his hand before grinning a little. 

It was the first time Steve had seen Tony as anything other than their benefactor, a billionaire or a socialite. He never told Tony about it till years later.

The second time Steve saw Tony with a kid was when Tony helped Cassie with her project because Scott had to go to work. Years had passed since he had started calling Tony as Iron Man and vice versa, but Steve knew that some masks still existed.

“You’re good with kids,” he observed when Cassie had finally left with Scott, grin in place and completed project in hand.

Tony had stiffened a little, just a smidge but Steve would later learn to recognize those as important.

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids, Cap,” Tony smirked, eyes sharp and lips stretched into a practised curve. Those were his days battling a bottle. Remarks were often barbs, even when they weren’t meant to be, and Steve knew that there wasn’t much he could clarify all the time. 

He had still meant it though.

The third time Steve addressed Tony being with kids, was unsurprisingly when baby Dani was in Tony’s arms and the team was gathered to celebrate Luke and Jessica’s new addition.

“She’s beautiful,” Tony commented, hushed and soft, and Steve suddenly didn’t know why he never said what he actually really had meant to say. What he had felt when he had seen Tony with kids, with faces of innocence that trusted him. 

“She’s comfortable,” he said and waited till Tony looked up, a small frown on the genius’ face. Steve made sure to meet Tony’s eyes and smiled a little, awkward and unsure and terrified, but safe, knowing that Tony wouldn’t disappoint in this, never in this.

“Steve?”

“She’s comfortable,” Steve repeated, placing a cautious hand on Tony’s shoulder, leaning over him a little as he caught sight of the baby in Tony’s arms before looking back at his best friend, his partner, and his new-found epiphany, “She is comfortable around you, Tony.”

“She’s still a baby,” Tony said, a little shaken, a little confused and a lot hopeful in his eyes as he read between Steve’s lines. Steve breathed in, the scent of Tony and home and today.

“She’s not wrong,” he said quietly, and hoped Tony would hear what he meant.

Tony blinked and Steve could see a mist of moisture gathering in his stark blue eyes and curled his arm more securely around Tony’s shoulder. 

“You’re good with me too,” he clarified and heard Tony’s disbelieving but relieved chuckle, a lot broken but a little rested. Tony bent a little to kiss Dani’s forehead and leaned back into Steve’s hold, letting him take Tony’s weight.

Steve tightened his arms and held on. 

 

 


	9. Christmas presents and subtle confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “All I want for Christmas is you!”
> 
> I’m going with MA:A Stony for this :D

The mansion had few traditions before the Avengers had moved in. 

Most of the floors were modelled after magazine covers, classic but cold to live in. The ceilings were high and walls wide, but it was a hotel of hollow memories. Tony had never lived well with memories, always letting them move in shadows better, and he had never really bothered making meaningful ones in the mansion when he had been more of a guest than an inhabitant there.

But all of that was before the team had nudged their way into the place, tearing down the untouchability of the house and draping the mess of home all over it. 

Tony never really told anyone about how much he loved his own home better now, but he suspected that some of them knew.

Especially Steve. Always Steve.

“Is there a reason we’re transferring a metal  forest to the common floor?” Jan asked as she entered the kitchen, her designer sweatshirt having no trace of sweat, probably because Jan’s version of exercise usually meant flying around in circles before getting distracted. 

“We’re going green this Christmas,” Tony said, sipping on his coffee from the kitchen’s island, tipping his mug in Steve’s direction, “Cap even sent a memo to everyone.”

Jan made a face at the word memo, making Tony grin into his mug and Steve roll his eyes.

“You’re making a fake  _Christmas tree_ though,” Jan plopped onto the chair opposite to Tony and pointed at Steve, who was putting away the leftover from breakfast.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Steve shrugged and nodded in Tony’s direction with a small smile, “Besides, Mr. Genius here is going ultra-green this year.”

“It’s called being responsible,” Tony took a pointed sip of his coffee and watched with amusement as Jan pouted but sighed in acceptance.

“Fine,” she agreed but narrowed her eyes at Tony in warning, “But if we have to get fake  _gifts_  for anyone -”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Tony drained the last of his coffee and grinned at Jan, “I  _do_  value my life, Van Dyne.”

“Shocking,” Steve said mildly and Tony rolled his eyes as Jan chuckled at the deadpan comment. 

The preparations for Christmas was no less than preparing for battle when it involved a bunch as strange as the Avengers. Tony knew that Jarvis was thankful when Luke’s mom dropped in to help out, wrangling the mess-makers and giving out orders about the decoration. Spidey and Clint kept annoying Ororo about something while Logan made it seem like a tiring task to hang decorations on the fake tree, something Jan insisted on even though Tony told her that the tree had enough lights embedded to decorate. 

“The presents seem to have grown since last night,” Steve observed when he finally sat beside Tony on the couch, knee slightly knocking and one arm casually draped around the back of the couch.

“Clint must have finally gone shopping,” Tony shrugged vaguely, pointedly not looking at Steve when he felt the knowing azure eyes glance at him.

“Clint, right,” Steve hummed a little and Tony wondered if super-soldier hearing meant listening to accelerated heartbeats when Steve pressed an inch closer to him. 

“It’s Christmas, Cap,” Tony patted Steve’s knee and smiled placatingly, “Everyone deserves gifts.”

Steve didn’t say anything but the issue be and Tony breathed out, happy that he wouldn’t have to discuss the extra gifts he had dropped under the tree because he had thought they weren’t enough for the team before.

It was totally worth it when he watched everyone go nuts over their gifts, talking over each other and throwing balled up gift wrapping sheets at Spidey in laughter. The room felt warmer and Tony wrote another memory into his mind, hiding a smile as he pretended to look at the diary Steve had gifted him.

“Did you like it?” he heard Steve ask and looked up, a fond smile on his lips.

“Your attempts to make me go old-school are always appreciated, Cap,” he shook his head and grinned when Steve shrugged unrepentantly, “Yes, Steve, I like it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Shellhead,” Steve nudged his shoulder and Tony eyed the vintage pen set Steve had in his lap.

“Did you like mine?”

Steve hummed vaguely and Tony felt his heart sink a little.

“Did you - was there something else you wanted, Cap?” he asked, mind racing over hints he had missed clearly, because he had never been good at knowing  _people_  as such, and he should have just asked for Pepper’s help,  _damn_ -

“I got what I wanted for this season,” Steve’s voice cut through his thoughts and he saw the blue-eyed Captain eye him, “a while back.”

“Really,” Tony blinked and frowned a little, “That’s - uh, good. What was it, then?”

Steve’s lips curved into that small smile he got when somebody asked the right questions or when he had the perfect timing for what he wanted to say. It was an expression Tony had seen during the rare debriefs when he would complete Steve’s thoughts.

“You”

Tony wasn’t used to having his brain screech to a halt but apparently, Steve was always an exception when it came to him.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Shellhead,” Steve said and the arm draped on the back of the couch slowly rested on Tony’s back.

Tony had dreamt of confessions in varying colours, of saying the words that lay deep in his bones whenever he saw Steve. He had dreamt of smiling at Steve and watching Steve smile back with the knowledge of knowing that the smile meant more than friendship. He had dreamt of - Steve, for years now. 

Dreams though rarely came true for Tony.

“The pen set is that bad?” he joked because joking came easy, it was natural in response.

Steve didn’t waver though and calmly rubbed a thumb over Tony’s shoulder, soft and grounding in fleeting touches.

“It’s a nice set,” Steve nodded and smiled at Tony, all warmth and sunshine, “but all I want for Christmas is you.”

Tony swallowed, dry air and fear and hope pushing into his lungs as Steve’s eyes held his, open in truth and fondness, in love and new beginnings.

“You want me, you got me, Cap,” Tony said quietly, a weak smile blooming onto his face and felt the warmth of the season press into his skin when Steve’s hand squeezed his shoulder.

New memories were worth all the traditions that came with them and Tony settled into happiness as Christmas carried on.

 

 


	10. Steph and Toni share some warmth on a cold holiday morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “There’s no way I’m going out in that weather!”
> 
> I’m going with Rule 63 for this one <3

“No”

“Okay, see, I hear you say  _no_  but consider this,” Toni rolled over onto her back, spreading her hands in a dramatic way, “Christmas In Paris”

“I heard you the first time, Toni,” Steph threw an arm around her girlfriend’s waist and dragged her back into the warmth of the duvet, “and my answer still stands.”

“You’re right, of course,” Toni nodded, huddling closer to Stephanie, whiskey brown eyes looking up at her with thinly veiled excitement, “Rome is so much better.”

“Bed is better,” Steph said and buried her face into Toni’s neck, nuzzling into the warm skin there with a soft smile, “Here is better.”

“I see your point there, baby,” Toni laughed softly, a huff of air and warmth, all Toni and no Stark in the sheets around them, “This is  _definitely_  nice, but - it’s our first Christmas. It could be  _nicer_.”

Steph sighed and lifted her head from Toni’s neck, a petulant look on her face.

“It’s our first Christmas  _together_ , sweetheart,” she corrected and tightened her arm around Toni’s waist, “It’s already nicer.”

“This is weaponized sap and you’re attacking me with it,” Toni grinned and leaned down to kiss her, chapped lips and warm mouth sending the familiar tendrils of home down Steph’s back.

“I don’t know,” Steph whispered when they finally parted, a soft smile lingering on her lips, “you seem to be doing just fine, Ms. Stark.”

Toni rolled her eyes but Stephanie could see the fondness, the happiness in the looseness of the limbs, the ease of the skin around her eyes, and the wisp of a smile on her lips. It never failed to amaze Steph how simply watching Toni look happy could make her happy too, how just one glance at that sight could convince her heart to feel lighter. 

She would call it a Christmas miracle but it was no miracle. They had come together, to the place that they were in, to each other, through effort and choice. They had fought and found this happiness, and Steph knew that it made things worth so much more. 

“Fine,” Toni sighed dramatically, lips brushing Steph’s hair when she moved closer, “What do you want to do today then?”

“I don’t know,” Steph shrugged a shoulder, “Anything that we want. No plans, no schedule. Go with the flow?”

“We’ll end up watching boring movies on loop,” Toni said deadpan but Steph grinned, reaching up to kiss Toni’s nose.

“Sounds perfect,” she said and watched Toni wrinkle her nose, “You, me, movies, blankets, and nothing else to worry about. Lots of potential there.”

“You just want to make-out and cuddle endlessly,” Toni declared with a twinkle in her eye and Steph shrugged again, unabashed in her acceptance. It  _was_  her favourite thing to do.

“You complaining?”

“Not a chance,” Toni scoffed lightly and kissed her wife’s forehead firmly, “You know I’d do a hell lot more than sacrifice my chapped lips for you, Commander Rogers-Stark.”

Steph grinned even as she rolled her eyes at her dork of a wife and settled in to laze around a while more.

“We could go visit Coney Island?”

“Toni,” Steph rose up on an elbow and flipped them around till she could lean over her grinning wife, “there is no way I’m going out in that weather. Now, we gonna take advantage of this bed or you gonna play mapquest more?”

“Aww, why, honey, all you had to do was ask,” Toni smirked and Steph leaned down to kiss it off her lips.

Some things were better answered by silence. 

 

 


	11. Flirting is good till it seems like rejection and Christmas solves everything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please come over. I don’t want to be alone on Christmas.”  
>  “You know I could never leave you alone on your favourite holiday.”
> 
> I’m going with MA:A for this because it is honestly one of my favourite verses.

* * *

Steve really had thought he had a grip on this - this  _thing_  they had started.

There were quiet glances across the debrief table, small smiles in the kitchen, knowing smirks during basketball, brief touches of comfort or support that might have lingered during times. There were blushes and banter, teasing and taut silences. There was  _something_  that was more than most everything Steve had read about. 

Jan called it the longest foreplay of the world.

Luke called it the Chase™. 

Steve thought it was the lead-up to the right time, and he was having fun with this. Tony was glitz and glamour and gorgeously genius to the world but at home, when Steve added another notch to the months long not-flirting game, he was adorably flustered, sweeter, and more  _Tony_. 

Steve didn’t prefer one image over the other but the idea of Tony being the latter for  _him_  was admittedly a matter of quiet pride and awe. 

It was fun and Steve was relaxed about it when everything began changing.

“You could just tell him, you know?” Ororo told him over morning coffee one day, glancing up from her crossword, an amused but serious expression on her face.  


Steve considered bluffing but Ororo had known about this since the first time Steve had flirted back at Tony. 

“When the time is right,” he replied instead and buttered his bagel with a small smile, ignoring her eye-roll and wondering if he could lure Tony to a lunch at the park that day.   


When Tony agreed, he let his hand linger on his shoulder, a fond smile on his face. Tony didn’t smile back completely, but Steve figured that he was tired from the workshop binge. 

If he had paid more attention he would have noticed the way Tony’s smile had been dimming for a couple of weeks now. 

“Something on your mind?” Tony asked during the lunch, eyes intent for a second but body language casual as they brushed crumbs off their hands.  


Steve smiled at Tony and imagined another point to the build-up.

“Nothing, Shellhead,” he said with a purposefully casual air and was distracted when a young lady came by to ask for his autograph. Tony found something important to focus on in his phone on their ride back and Steve let it be, feeling lighter after some wonderful time with Tony.   


It was wonderful till it was not.

“He’s - what?” Steve wondered if his super-hearing had lost its power but Jan simply stared at him and sighed.  


“Thor Odinson, remember him?” Jan raised an eyebrow at what presumed was a spectacularly dumbfounded expression on Steve’s face, “Well, I heard that he asked Tony out last night, after the Gala, and Tony didn’t exactly say no.”  


“Thor,” Steve confirmed.  


“Yes”  


“Thor Odinson”  


“Yep,” Jan popped the p with obvious relish. She had the face of someone who was capturing the moment to savour for a millennium.  


“Wasn’t he -,” Steve scrambled for words, “wasn’t he dating Ororo?”  


Jan shrugged, a small hint of a knowing look in her eyes that were also slightly sympathetic.

“They had fun,” she said, “but Ororo wanted something different and they split mutually. But she does have  _very_  good stories about -”  


“Alright,” Steve said hurriedly because his mind was running a mile a minute and he did not - no. “I didn’t know that he was interested in Tony,” he said, clearly meaning that he didn’t know that  _Tony_  was interested too.

It burnt in his chest to think about it but his mind was unrelenting. 

“He has good reason to be,” Jan said with a vague head tilt, eyeing Steve for a minute before getting back to her tea, “After all, Tony was single, eligible, available, and honestly, anybody would be lucky to be with him, wouldn’t they?”  


And Steve - well, he didn’t really have an answer to that other than  _but I thought we were both getting somewhere_.

He tried to play it down, push down the confusion and hurt and jealousy into a deep pit when he next met Tony. Tony looked good. He looked -

Steve pushed the thoughts  _down_  and buried them as much as he could.

Which wasn’t enough apparently, when the fight happened three days before Christmas. 

“Fine!” Steve yelled after hours and hours of arguing, over something he didn’t even  _remember_  by this point, “Go! Keep running away instead of actually facing down issues! You’re good at that!”  


“Are we sure we’re talking about  _me_?” Tony shot back, furious in looks too and Steve felt shaken and unsettled, an ugly part of him rearing at the face of the question.  


“I can’t believe I thought you’d ever be in for the long-haul of anything,” he scoffed, shaking with hurt and yearning and disappointment over a million other things, “Forget it, some things are not worth it.”  


He knew the minute it slipped his lips that he had crossed a line that should never have been crossed. Tony grew still, frozen and cold, face growing blank even as Steve tried to push out words,  _anything_  that could pull back what he had said.

“Thanks, Cap,” Tony said quietly, cool and detached, “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll go find something that’s - well, short-haul, I suppose.”  


Steve had faced ice and sun and monsters, but as he stood in the workshop in Tony’s wake, he felt like he had lost something he could never stand a chance against. 

Staying in the mansion after Tony left - where he didn’t tell anyone - was something Steve couldn’t bear doing and he decided to go for a run. It felt good to let his feet hit the road, the motions going by rote and his body burning energy with practised ease. The burning and bitterness in his chest didn’t cool down but Steve knew that it wouldn’t happen so easily either. 

He passed through his familiar route and kept going when the first hint of rain touched him. It was only when the downpour began in earnest that Steve ducked into a shelter and took refuge, sweating and warm but feeling the fatigue of a troubled mind. 

As the rain slapped against the Earth, Steve let his mind go over the fight and Tony’s expression as it had escalated. There had been nothing worth fighting for, nothing major or urgent, that had warranted Steve’s level of frustration. But jealousy and pushed down sadness didn’t work with logic sometimes and Steve -

Steve wished he had been able to just talk to Tony. 

Tony didn’t come back that night and Steve quietly skipped dinner, avoiding Jan and Ororo’s looks.

That night he began going over all those months he had imagined the flirting. Tony was always Steve’s best friend, understanding more than Steve was able to tell, always  _there_  right beside Steve. He had always shown a flirty side but Steve had ignored it in the beginning, knowing that it was just how Tony was. Tony would throw a flirty remark and Steve would roll his eyes before bringing some other matter to attention. It hadn’t been an issue.

And then he had flirted back, first during a journey back from a mission, smirking as he made a quip in reply to Tony’s. Tony had faltered for a minute before laughing.

Steve frowned and sat up on his bed. Something was not right. Something that he had let blur into the background noise was beginning to make itself clear.

He remembered the basketball games and the smirks when Steve would tell Tony he couldn’t handle him. It had been meant to be flirty. It  _was_  flirty. Tony had looked incredibly interested at first.

But then he thought about the last couple of weeks. The way Tony would freeze for a second and smirk, something off about it, something that Steve had thought was his effort in finding his balance. Steve would touch Tony and Tony would eye him strangely. Steve would push Tony to take a break and watch a movie with him and Tony would resolutely not let his thigh press against Steve’s. Steve would make a teasing remark and Tony would -

Well, Tony would pause. Like he was  _actually_  thinking about it being serious and not taking it as a flirting. 

Steve felt a small ball of concern grow in his mind and wondered if he had missed something significant. 

“Was Tony flirting with me?” he asked abruptly the next morning, not exactly cornering Ororo and Jan but also not letting them escape.   


There was a tense silence for a few minutes and the ladies exchanged a look before Ororo eyed Steve.

“Yes,” she said, calm but a tinge of exasperation in her tone, “for a while.”  


“For a - when did he  _stop_?” Steve asked, feeling off-kilter.  


“Steve,” Jan said slowly, “he flirted till he took your hint of rejection.”  


Steve stared at both of them.

“My - what?”  


“You never really showed interest,” Jan explained, “and well, Steve, Tony thinks that if you’re interested, you come out and say things outright. When you didn’t - I think he took a hint.”  


“I asked him out on dates!” Steve said with a touch of shocked hysteria.  


“You drag him out to your usual friendly lunch,” Ororo disagreed, “and Captain, it isn’t really encouraging when someone stresses that you’re their ‘best pal’ alone all the time.”  


“But -”  


“Most importantly though,” Jan said quietly, soft and sympathizing, “foreplay is only good until a certain point, Steve. If you drag it too long, it just becomes a game. And Tony…”  


“I don’t think he was playing games,” Ororo finished with a shrug.  


Steve stared at both of them and distantly thought that he must have looked like a fish, going by the expressions on both of them.

It was two days to Christmas when Steve tried calling Tony, still not prepared on what he wanted to say but  _needing_  to say something. 

Tony didn’t answer and Steve spent the night in the gym.

The next day, he left Tony messages.

_I’m sorry_

_I never meant to hurt you. You’re my best friend._

_I was taking out my frustration on you. You didn’t deserve that._

_Hi, Tony. Logan says to tell you that he broke the fridge. I don’t think anybody can fix this like you._

_Luke fixed the fridge but - I’d like to talk, if you have time. I hope you’re okay._

_I didn’t know that I hurt you. I thought - it doesn’t matter. I miss you, Shellhead._

Tony didn’t reply and Steve felt terrible even when Thor came by that night and cheerfully greeted him, telling him that Tony had actually refused him after a lunch together. If anything, he felt worse after it. 

On Christmas Eve, Luke’s mom came by and wished everyone, asking about their plans for Christmas. Everyone had some plan, and those who didn’t were invited to the Cage home. 

Steve smiled as politely as he could and stayed back. 

That night, he sat on the roof and stared up at the stars, a quiet curtain of silence around him. He remembered the last Christmas, Tony dragging him to the fore and demanding that everyone dress up and celebrate. Steve had played along and had felt the happiness seep in when Tony curled an arm around his shoulder and laughed beside him, pulling him in and making him a part of everything. 

He wanted that again.

He wanted Tony,  _his_  Tony again.

But he didn’t want to act subtle about it. There was nothing subtle about it anymore. There probably never was, or never should have been. Time was too short for happiness and Steve had missed so much anyway. 

He missed Tony. 

Pulling his phone out, he stared at it, wishing for words, for words that would be enough.

In the end he went with what he had always wanted. What was the base of what he should have said.

_Please come over. I don’t want to be alone on Christmas._

He closed his phone and breathed out, wishing for something he might have lost. 

On Christmas morning, Steve didn’t want to wake up. There was nobody else in the mansion and he was too tired at heart to celebrate anything. He stayed in bed and shut his eyes, wondering if he could simply stay that way through the day.

There was a knock on the door and Steve sat up alert. Villains loved to interrupt on good days and on Christmas - Steve grabbed his shield from the bedside and quietly opened the door, ready to knock the person out. 

Only to see Tony staring back at him.

“Tony?”  


“Are you still in your pajamas?” Tony asked, eyeing him before waving a hand, dismissing the comment, “Forget it, come on, we’re late.”  


“What - Tony, what are you -,” Steve stared at Tony but Tony simply rolled his eyes and grabbed Steve’s wrist, dragging him out.  


“Come  _on_ ,” he pulled and led Steve down to the main hall, “Seriously, of all the days to sleep in, you choose Christmas? Way to be the Grinch, Cap.”  


Steve stumbled in Tony’s wake but came to a halt when they reached the room, looking around to see a shabbily decorated tree and a holographic projection of snow coming from the ceiling. 

“Tony,” he whispered and swallowed the lump in his throat, “When did you do all this?”  


“I had a little help,” Tony replied and Steve looked at him to see him trying to look casual but fighting a sneaky look, “Thor is surprisingly good at finding Christmas trees in the last minute and I am good at disabling the security systems when I want to be quiet.”  


“I can see that,” Steve laughed and knew that it sounded a little wet. Tony’s face softened at that but Steve simply smiled. “I’m glad you’re back home.”  


“Yeah well,” Tony shrugged and Steve fought a hitch in his breath when Tony stepped closer, “You know I could never leave you alone on your favourite holiday.”  


“You never left me alone before too,” Steve replied and wished he just knew to come out and  _say_  things better but Tony smiled, a soft look washing over his face.  


“Got you a present too,” he said and grinned at Steve, “close your eyes.”  


“Tony -”  


“For me?” Tony asked and Steve had never wanted to refuse Tony anything.   


He closed his eyes and waited, almost opening them when he felt the heat of Tony step closer but before he could do anything, there was the press of chapped lips to his own, feather light but real.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” Tony whispered against his lips and Steve opened his eyes.  


“I’m sorry,” he said, quiet and choking, relief heady where the exhaustion of everything else crashed into him. Tony leaned forward and rested his forehead against Steve’s.  


“Still the wrong words, darling?” he asked and Steve choked on a laugh, weak and watery but giddy. He had a chance. He had a chance again.  


“I love you too,” he said and Tony nodded, smiling into Steve’s lips.  


With the quiet settling around them, Steve and Tony enjoyed their Christmas miracle. 

 


	12. Undercover missions don't cover up some anger and love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Babe, I’m sorry.” - “Suck my ass.”  
> I went with MCU for this!

The others were avoiding them so hard that it was clear they were listening in like hawks. 

Going by Thor’s attempt at choking back laughs, they were even gleeful about this. 

“Alright,” Clint cleared his throat on the comm and Tony resisted the urge to pick it out of his ear to throw it somewhere far, “Target seems to have bought the - uh - act.”

Tony was definitely going to throw Clint’s bow off the Tower’s roof when they got home. 

“Stay for fifteen more minutes and then you can come,” Natasha said, ever the professional but spoiled it by continuing, “Just back home though. Other things are not under mission parameters.”

Steve was pointedly ignoring Tony but he could see the soldier’s jaw tighten slightly, even if his grip on the champagne glass stayed normal.

“So,” Tony spoke, taking a sip of his cider and hoping his voice sounded casual, “got any plans tomorrow night?”

Steve took a pointed sip of his own cider and ignored Tony, who sighed. 

Fifteen minutes later, he was striving to keep up with Steve as they marched back to the evac point.

“Steve”

“Widow, ETA 3 minutes”

“C’mon, Cap -”

“Keep the wheels running”

“Look, it wasn’t like I had a choice exactly -”

“Make a sweep of targets before take-off”

“Babe,” Tony tried, the endearment falling easily off his lips, “I’m sorry”

“Suck my ass,” Steve snapped and Tony heard a choking sound over the comm but remained absolutely silent as Steve whirled around to glare at him. 

They both stared at each other, standing 2 minutes away from the evac point. Steve was red-faced and Tony was fighting hard to keep his lips sealed.

“As you wish,” he blurted and yes, silence was clearly never going to work with that opening. 

Steve’s glare remained set for a minute and Tony tried a sheepish smile with an  _oops_  expression. Finally, Steve sighed and snorted a light chuckle, tired and exasperated.

“Alright, I walked right into that one,” he admitted and rolled his eyes when Tony grinned at him, “but this doesn’t mean that -”

“Hey, you know I didn’t mean anything when I was flirting with -”

“I don’t give a shit about the  _flirting_ ,” Steve shot back and Tony paused. 

“Well, then, what is it?”

“You knew he put the pill in your drink,” Steve ground out and okay, now things were a bit clearer.

“It was just a test, Cap,” Tony replied, knowing that they were giving the team a show of a lifetime, “C’mon, we couldn’t have blown our cover.”

“You -,” Steve bit back his words with clear effort and Tony softened, moving closer to lightly take Steve’s hand with a small grin.

“Also, I knew you were coming in,” he said with confidence, his ring clinking against Steve’s, “I gotta admit, watching you give people the shark grin is so much better than giving it myself.”

“You’re an ass,” Steve huffed but pulled Tony closer, just for a minute, just to rest his forehead against Tony’s and breathe him in, “You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Mr. Stark.”

“Well,” Tony squeezed his Captain’s hand and smiled, “we  _did_  promise to not part even at death, so I guess you’ll have to stay alive if I have to play the dazzler in more such floozy shows, Commander Rogers- _Stark_.”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve leaned in and kissed the man he had married, a grin on his lips before they left to get away soon from the undercover mission they had spent the night on.

After all, Tony did have a wish to fulfil for his husband. 

 

 

 

 


	13. Tony is a flirt but his heart belongs to Steve forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Quit flirting.” - “I didn’t mean to-”  
> AND   
>  “Why did I marry you?” - “It took a lot of convincing.”  
> I’m combining both in this and I’m going with 616 where CW and mindwipe didn’t happen ‘cause I said so.

Tony checked his watch and smiled, his eyes crinkling as he looked up at the object of his affection.

“Alright, I’ve got,” Tony leaned against the pole nearby and smiled disarmingly, “15 minutes before he gets here, so how about you and I have some fun till then?”

He was met with stony silence but Tony was never one to be discouraged easily, and especially not when he was actually interested in wooing. 

“You’ve got gorgeous eyes, you know that?” he said, eyeing the sight before him with ill-concealed appreciation, “Stunning, and the perfect shape too. I should know. I’ve seen the most beautiful eyes in the world.”

The lack of response didn’t matter and Tony let his eyes wander up and down, taking in every inch before him.

“And your body?” Tony whistled lowly, lazy and content in his smile, “If I were a poet, I would write sonnets about you. But sadly, I’m no poet.”

He finally leaned away from the pole and took a step forward.

“I’m something better though,” he said as he walked towards his destination, “I’m an engineer.”

“Quit flirting,” a familiar voice called out and Tony jerked a little at being caught.

“I didn’t mean to -”

“I see,” Steve observed as Tony turned around to see the blond come towards him, his uniform crisp and eyes sparkling with mirth, “I leave you alone for five minutes and I’ve already got competition.”

Tony shrugged, only a little sheepish at being noted, and felt his lips curve into a smile involuntarily as his Captain reached him and wrapped an easy arm around his shoulder.

“It’s not safe to leave a handsome man alone,” he pointed out, eyes challenging as they met azure ones, “with such a beauty. Especially on a day like this.”

“I would think that flirting with,” Steve looked around Tony at his ‘rival’, “a beauty on a day like this would be much more inappropriate, wouldn’t it?”

“Some things are unavoidable,” Tony declared and grinned when Steve squeezed his shoulder, “Sorry, were you jealous?”

“Do I have a reason to be?” Steve asked, eyes dancing the way it did whenever he was about to prove himself to be a foregone sap, “After all, I have what your new friend doesn’t.”

“Aren’t you smug,” Tony commented but felt himself flush with happiness when Steve simply raised an eyebrow before leaning forward to capture Tony’s lips in a firm but familiar kiss.

“It’s the day,” Steve replied when they parted, a soft smile on his face, “Makes a lucky man confident enough to be smug.”

“I’m still going home with her,” Tony grinned and Steve sighed, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Fine then,” he accepted and eyed the ‘32 Roadster with a mock narrowed expression before looking back at his newlywed husband, “I’ll have to settle for sharing, I suppose.”

“Aww, you say the sweetest thing, beloved,” Tony brushed his thumb over Steve’s cheek fondly.

“You’re a brat,” Steve declared with a huff, “Why did I marry you?”

“It took a lot of convincing,” Tony declared and Steve raised an eyebrow.

“ _I_  was the one who proposed, sweetheart”

“And it took you a lot to convince me,” Tony agreed and Steve’s eyes softened impossibly, the happiness and awe of finally getting together the way they had always dreamt of shining in his eyes.

“It was always worth it,” Steve declared in a whisper and kissed Tony again, “Everything was worth it.”

The Roadster lay ignored as Tony found agreed with the love of his life. 

 

 


	14. Best friend or more - some things need to be made clear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “I want my best friend back.” - “Kevin is over there.”

Steve was considered a paragon of patience by many. Sometimes he even lived up to that expectation.

Tony, as usual, was clearly not going to let that happen that day. 

“Ahem”

Steve tapped on his phone and ignored the terrible impression of a prim throat clearing from the seat beside him.

“ _Ahem”_

The wallpapers on Google were really fascinating sometimes. Steve pretended that this was one of those times.

“I’m definitely more interesting than,” Tony leaned over and frowned at Steve’s phone, “wallpapers of Aurora Borealis.”

“You severely overestimate some things,” Steve quipped and sighed internally. Okay, so he had lasted for all of two minutes of ignoring the man apparently.

“What do you want, Tony?” he asked, putting his phone down and looking straight ahead.

“I want my best friend back,” Tony answered promptly and if Steve wasn’t feeling so grumpy he would have felt warm by the promptness.

“Kevin is,” Steve pointed in the direction of the gathering inside the conference room, “over there.”

“We named the aliens?” Tony frowned thoughtfully and Steve shot him a look.

“I meant Kevin the human,” he said dryly, “clearly.”

“Oh.  _Oh_ ,” Tony looked back at Steve with a mock-hurt expression, “I’m hurt, Cap. Of all the people to choose, you had to go for the guy even the Impossible Man rejected for his film production after two days? I’m devastated.”

“It shows,” Steve said, pointedly eyeing Tony.

“I mean, I clearly deserve Jon Favreau, at the very least,” Tony waved his hand in the direction of the group gathered in SHIELD’s conference room - people from the entertainment industry that the Impossible Man had kidnapped to make his magnum opus perfect, with ‘the most unique human specimens’. 

“Your expectations are too high,” Steve declared and Tony raised an eyebrow at him.

“Worked with you”

“Your overconfidence is staggering,” Steve snorted and Tony frowned, a little hesitance entering his expression.

“You’re really mad,” he observed and Steve sighed, turning to look at Tony completely.

“I’m - disappointed,” Steve said and shrugged at Tony’s frown, “It’s nothing major.”

“Steve”

“It’s fine, Tony”

“Steven,” Tony reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand, squeezing till Steve looked at him, “what’s going on?”

“I just -,” Steve breathed out and felt how stupid his disappointment was but Tony wasn’t letting go, “When Impossible Man asked you about - well, your best friend…”

“Yes?”

“I know Rhodey means a lot to you, and he  _does_  have every right to be your best friend,” Steve looked down a little and wondered if this would be any more embarrassing if he flushed, “I don’t want to be upset about that -”

“Steve,” Tony prompted, bringing Steve’s attempt at rambling to a halt.

“I know it’s not reasonable but,” Steve let out a frustrated huff, “I guess I wanted our answers to be reciprocatory.”

“Reciproca - oh,” Tony paused as he understood. Steve had named Tony as his best friend without a pause during the ‘interview’. 

“Like I said, it’s not reasonable and -”

“You’re an idiot,” Tony cut Steve short and Steve hid his wince as fast as he could.

“Thanks,” he said in a casual tone but even he could hear the bitterness in it.

“Listen. Look at me, listen,” Tony pulled at Steve’s hand till he looked up again and saw fierce brown eyes hold his gaze, “Rhodey is my best friend and I know, I  _know_  you understand that, so I’m not going to explain why I said that.”

“Tony, I -”

“But,” Tony spoke over him, “if you think for one second, one damn second, that you mean anything else, that you’re not important to me, then you’ve lost your mind or you’re a Skrull, because my Steve definitely knows the truth.”

“Which is?” Steve asked bemusedly.

“That I’m not half as good as who I am when I’m with you,” Tony said casually, like he wasn’t making Steve’s heart stop, like he wasn’t tearing down the veil of casualness here, “And that you’re much more than just a friend, you moron.”

“That’s not nice,” Steve said quietly, swallowing the flutter in his throat as he tried to remember that this was SHIELD’s HQ, that this was public, that they could go back home and actually act on the confession Tony was casually throwing out in public.

“I’m not nice either,” Tony shrugged but his eyes were fond and teasing and everything Steve had tried to convince himself were just proof of friendship, “but I’m also not a fool who would ever replace you with anyone else.”

“And why’s that?” Steve couldn’t resist asking.

“Because,” Tony inched closer and whispered in Steve’s ear, “if he had asked who was the one I  _loved_ , the answer would have been different.”

Steve bit down a smile and squeezed Tony’s hand at that, finding it impossible to stay morose when he was getting more than he thought he had expected.

He would have to thank the Impossible Man for making some things possible after all.


	15. Friends With Benefits Work Only When Feelings Don't Get Involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  “Where are you going?” - “Somewhere you won’t be there” - Friends With Benefits (with request for some angst)
> 
> Going with MCU for this, because oh the angst (of course, there has to be a happy ending because THIS IS ME)

 

It was a bad decision from the moment they had first thought about it. Not that they had  _ever_  thought this through, but there had been talks of consent and skirting around rules before Steve had simply leaned forward to kiss Tony against the door. 

There had not been a lot of talking apart from Tony cursing out Steve’s name or Steve murmuring encouragements against Tony’s skin. It had been a clash of relief and convenience with the comfort of being ‘just friends’.

It was a bad meme come to life but neither Steve nor Tony had really complained about it in the afterglow of the first time, laughing lazily and ribbing each other over moments of ecstasy. 

“I’ll go clean up” Tony had said with an easy grin, sliding out of his own bed and walking towards the shower, “Catch some rest and then we’ll go out for burgers. Barton has been harping about me owing him the ‘best burgers in a dozen’ after the last bet.”

“I still can’t believe you ever bet against him on targets,” Steve answered lazily, feeling flush with endorphins, eyes hazy as he eyed Tony from the bed, “Win for everyone though, I guess. Free food.”

“How dare you,” Tony chuckled mildly before slipping into his bathroom, locking the door behind him and Steve stayed in bed, gazing up at the ceiling and trying to focus on the good part of this change rather than some hidden nagging in his brain.

It would be fine. They were friends now,  _finally,_ after years of feeling their equation out and circling around a middle ground. They were still different but the edges had smoothed out, their differences feeling more fit to be puzzle pieces than jagged shards. 

The attraction had been there unspoken from Day 1, when they had met on the Helicarrier but it felt more - easy now. More consensual than aggressive clashing of desires. 

Steve was happy with it. Adding sex to their friendship was a bonus, a benefit, and that was always rare enough with their lives, so he really had no complaints.

* * *

 

They worked together and fought together, living together and bickering together; but now they also found pleasure together. It was simple. It was liberating. 

Steve didn’t tell either Sam or Natasha. Telling Bucky was absolutely out of question, considering that Bucky had seen Steve’s sketchbooks.

They didn’t need to know, he figured. It wasn’t that big a matter to be discussed, if worthy of being discussed at all. 

“Hey, wanna go watch a game?” Tony asked one day, eyes focused on his phone and a suit jacket on.

“Which one?” Steve asked from the couch where he was going through the latest updates from the rebuilt SHIELD.

Tony looked up and grinned, a small curve of lips that was nowhere near the flashy smile that the press hounds got. Steve felt his own lips begin to curve in reply even before Tony spoke.

“Dodgers, of course,” Tony said, like it was obvious, like it didn’t matter that Tony hated baseball on even good days, “What say, big guy? I promise I’ll even limit my mocking to the first half alone.”

“How gracious of you,” Steve quipped back drily, ignoring the slight flutter in his stomach and closed the files on his tablet even before he decided, “Alright, sure. Meet you in the garage in 15 minutes?”

“You’re on, honey,” Tony winked before he walked away, leaving Steve trying to  _not_  stare at his retreating ass.

Steve had his doubts about Tony’s mocking promise but it didn’t matter even when Tony broke it and complained about everything comfortably throughout the game. The genius rolled his eyes at Steve’s cheering, grinned at the cursing and yelled when there were actual home-run hits. He fit perfectly in Steve’s arms when they hugged to celebrate a hit, and Steve blamed the heat of the sun for his flush.

They kissed in the shower at night and Steve watched Tony’s eyes darken, soften with a quiet joy, as he let Steve control his pleasure they way he would never let him control anything on the field. 

He closed his eyes and let the happiness seep into him as Tony’s lips moved against his and poured his relief into Tony’s heat when they finally came down from their high.

It was easy. Simple. Except for how easy and simple it felt to imagine this translating into something more.

“You doing okay, Cap?” Natasha asked him during a mission’s wrap-up and Steve glanced away from where Tony was laughing with Thor, a good distance away from them, the armour dented but still there. 

“I’m fine, no injuries,” Steve said, swallowing the fear and panic from minutes ago when he had thought that Tony had crashed fatally across the pavement. 

Natasha didn’t push things but her eyes flickered between Steve and Tony knowingly.

That night Steve poured every bit of care, every bit of affection he could find inside him into making love to Tony, swallowing every cry of surprise, kissing every nick and mark. He entwined his fingers with Tony’s as he pulled every possible inch of satisfaction from the man whose eyes shone dark up at him. He breathed in the scent of Tony’s skin as he ran his hands over the map of years etched in scars over Tony’s body. He held Tony close, warm and alive, as he captured every moment behind his closed eyes.

He loved Tony in the darkness and the soft shadows. He loved him till his heart beat to the same rhythm of Tony’s. 

They fell asleep together that night and Steve let his dreams slip out of his hands as he held Tony in his arms.

He knew things had changed the next morning, when Tony woke up and stretched, twisting to look at Steve with sleep-hazy eyes.

“Good morning,” he whispered and Steve felt his heart skip a beat as the reality of it all crashed into him.

He could never have anything simple with Tony. Not when he had complicated things right from the start.

He let Tony kiss him, morning breath not taking away anything from the sweetness of the intimacy, and swallowed a choke at what he knew he would never have. 

“I think I love Tony,” he declared during lunch and Bucky paused in his boot cleaning to look up at Steve.

“Think?” he asked and Steve clenched his hands.

“Buck...”

Bucky stared up at his oldest friend and sighed, putting down his rag. Steve felt his eyes sting when Bucky threw an arm around his shoulder. He heard Bucky’s muted curse when he told him about the arrangement Steve and Tony had fallen into. 

“You have to tell him, Steve,” Bucky said quietly and Steve let his head fall into his hands.

“I’m going to screw things up,” he said, bitterness and pain welling in his throat.

“You can’t hide this though,” Bucky replied and Steve knew that he was right. They had all learnt the value of not hiding secrets, major secrets, from each other.

This was the most life-changing secret Steve could hold. 

He didn’t know how he was going to do it. He didn’t know a plan to let Tony know without losing him.

Unfortunately, it came out in the worst way possible, as always. 

Steve didn’t even realize that he had yelled it till the workshop was enveloped in silence, their fight coming to a standstill in the echo of his revelation. Steve almost wished that they could pick up the fight, over something neither of them really cared about, again.

“You - what?” Tony stared at him, eyes wide and hand clenched around the wrench he had been waving around.

Steve froze then, trying to find words, but words were never his strong suit. Speeches he could do, pep talks were easy, but confessing love? Saying what he needed to say in a fragile moment? 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I can’t do this”

“Do what? Steve, what are you -”

“I can’t, Tony.”

“Steve -”

Steve felt his legs move even before he could register it and turned on his heel.

“Where are you going?” Tony’s voice reached him but Steve couldn’t turn around, couldn’t stand to let things break than they already had.

“Somewhere you won’t be there,” he replied and shot out of the workshop, leaving Tony behind. 

Getting on his bike and leaving the Compound was easy. Riding into miles of no destination was easy.

The thought of what he had left at home was terrifying, and Steve shut it off in his brain as he rode. 

His Avengers comm was on and phone was off, so Steve rode on and stayed away for days, feeling like he had just come out of ice again.

He watched roads swallow back into the past and people move past the present, always moving, always changing even in their daily habits. It was easier to breathe without the panic of facing Tony but as days shifted into nights, as the moon cooled what the sun burnt, it ached to remember what he missed. 

When Steve had loved Peggy, he had never told her so, never had a chance to reach that point. She had loved him back, he had known in her eyes and smile and actions, but the words had never been spoken. She remained a fading scar, present but healing, in his life.

With Sharon, they had never let themselves reach that point, caught up in their fascination with views but never really testing them. They had been comfortable, a familiarity breeding affection from tricky times. She had been as good as him and they had been good to each other too, but they had never really touched the bad. She was a whisper of a mark on his memories, friendly and fond, but he knew that they were still nipped in a bud. It had been fun, but it had remained just that.

With Tony, though, it had been a rollercoaster of everything and nothing before they had found something to hold on to. Steve had been his worst to Tony, had seen Tony’s worst thrown at him, had kissed him through his softest, had brushed shoulders with him through his strongest. They had shared experiences that Steve had never thought possible, that he had never expected, and the unexpected had become welcoming when Steve knew Tony’s silhouette beside him. They were equals, the yin and the yang of a whole, and they had built together a world neither wanted to have without the other. 

They had each other even when they didn’t. 

Steve watched the clouds pass by and imagined stopping loving Tony, but found that it had become ingrained in his bones by now. It was an instinct, an accepted flow of blood in his veins, to love Tony. 

To think about stopping that seemed like a blank canvas and Steve had fought hard to create colour on his canvas since his rebirth of the 21st century. 

He closed his eyes and breathed out.

When he switched his phone back on, he found a barrage of missed calls from his friends but only two messages from Tony. He opened the first one, the older one, with a shaking breath.

_I thought you had stopped running from things. Guess I was wrong about you again, huh?_

It hurt, it stung at his pride and gut to be slapped with that but Steve swallowed the hurt and opened the next message, hoping to get it over with soon.

He opened it and stared at it, feeling his heart begin to jackhammer. 

_It doesn’t feel like home without you._

It wasn’t a plea to call him back. It wasn’t a confession of love. It wasn’t a rejection.

It was everything Steve had thought he had lost. 

He sat on his bike and rode back home, the message ringing in his head like a chant. 

When he entered the Compound, he was met by a relieved and angry mob of the team, all clamouring to question and scold him. Bucky met his eyes and stared at him even as Clint yelled at Steve, smiling slightly when Steve tried a smile. 

“You’re really a punk,” Bucky told him when Steve hugged him but it felt more like a relief than rebuke.

“Thanks, jerk,” Steve whispered and moved away. He knew that Tony would be in the workshop and steeled himself before he went looking for him.

Tony was facing away from the door when Steve entered the workshop. The sight of him, even if it wasn’t his face, felt like a resettling of  _home_ in Steve’s heart and he breathed out.

“I meant it,” Steve said and saw Tony’s back straighten, knowing that there was hurt there, but also knowing that he had to make things right.

“About needing to be where I wasn’t there? Sure,” Tony replied, cool and casual as he turned to look at Steve, the mask of nonchalance clear on his face.

Steve moved then, hating that he had become a reason for this in some way, that the mess had hurt Tony as much as it had been eating away at him.

“About loving you,” he said and watched as Tony raised an eyebrow, “I know that I hurt you, and I know I should have handled it better but I meant it.”

“Good for you,” Tony shrugged and moved towards a worktable, ignoring Steve as he raised a hologram, “Let me know when I’m allowed to have a say about it.”

Steve bit back a wince and moved to stand beside Tony, not touching him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quiet and sincere, putting himself on the cards, “I never meant to hurt you but - “

“But?” Tony echoed and Steve couldn’t find the words even as Tony turned to stare at him, a fire behind his cool eyes, “But you did anyway? It was an accident. You never meant to do it. You thought you could ignore it and it would just go away. You never wanted to actually  _let me know_  about anything. Right?”

“I didn’t want to lie to you, Tony,” Steve explained, “I couldn’t keep it to myself and let you think that we were - we -”

“That we were just fuckbuddies?” Tony said crudely, purposefully smirking and Steve felt cold.

“We were more than that,” he countered and Tony’s eyes flickered with a flash of emotion, “You are my friend, Tony. Even before the sex, even without it, you were always my friend.”

“Too bad you caught feelings from the sex, then,” Tony snapped and Steve could have run again, to pull back from the hurt he could feel at the words. But he was watching Tony and he could see, he could finally see the fear and hurt behind Tony’s anger, behind his coldness. 

He could see the same vulnerability he had tried to hide. 

“I had feelings long before the sex,” he confessed and saw Tony’s eyes clear, caught unaware, “I’ve had feelings for a long time. The sex just made it impossible to lie to myself longer.”

“People mix things up all the time,” Tony declared and Steve could see the out he was being given.

He hated it. He didn’t want to run anymore. 

“Maybe,” he agreed and saw Tony’s jaw tighten in rejection, “but I know what I feel, Tony.”

“Really?” Tony asked, voice shaking a little and his casual demeanour breaking when Steve finally raised a hand to cup his cheek.

“I love it when we have sex, but I love it when we don’t too,” he said, his thumb caressing Tony’s cheekbone and Steve smiled tremulously when Tony’s breath hitched, “I love our fights because I know that we’re still going to find our way back to each other. I love our faults because I know that we see each other in every form and still stick together. I love our friendship because I know that it made us better people. I love our silences because I can still hear an unspoken promise of us being there with each other. I love our sleep because we build our dreams together. I love us waking together because we hold each other in the present. I love us, Tony, because we choose to be together even when we can choose not to. I love you, because you chose me just the way that I chose you.”

Tony stared at Steve, eyes trying to find something Steve could not put into words but he must have found it because he finally cracked, finally relaxed enough to smile weakly even as tears threatened to fill his eyes.

“You’re an idiot”

“And I love you,” Steve nodded, smiling as Tony held his hand against his own cheek, “I love you, and I’m asking you to try.”

“Try what?” Tony asked even as he brought Steve’s forehead to touch against his own.

“To love me too”

“Oh, honey,” Tony laughed, wet and weak and real, “that I’ve always done.”

Steve wanted to laugh in relief but Tony kissed him, swallowing every hurt and wound and making new memories as he held Steve against his heart.


	16. Fights need to be resolved before tense missions but death scares give us priority

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I don't need your misplaced concern. I need to get the job done. You need me to get the job done."
> 
> Going with AA.

Steve knew that Tony was angry. It was evident in his short tone, avoidance of retracting the faceplate, and stilted movements - too sharp, too aborted. 

Natasha shared a look with him, heavy on understanding and mildly warning against compromising the mission. 

“Iron Man, get in position” Hawkeye called over the comm, pretending that things weren’t tense and this was just another mission. There was no pause or hesitance in his use of the callsign but to those who knew them well, it was evident.

Clint had resorted to calling Tony by his name often in the past few years. Even on the field. Sometimes especially on the field. 

“Guys, we’re going to come in hot,” Falcon informed and Steve braced to roll out on the signal, timing the entry with that of the fliers. 

He spared a moment to anticipate Tony’s quip about always being hot or bringing things hot to the field, but there was none. The radio silence was heavy in implication. 

Sneaking into the Squadron Supreme’s stronghold had been easy. The camera fitted into Tony’s guise had been a perfect ally in getting the info on the latest modification to the stronghold’s security system. It was also quite unsettling though, watching Nighthawk taunt his ‘hostage’ Tony using footage of the Avengers having functioned well when Tony had been away in the alternate dimension. 

The fight from before _definitely_  wasn’t helping in proving some things wrong about those taunts. 

“On my mark,” T’Challa said and Steve tensed before following the signal, trusting T’Challa to know the way better, seeing as it was a Wakandan embassy building that Squadron had stolen the security from. 

“- what will you do, Stark?” Nighthawk was ending his monologue when they burst in and Steve had a minute of satisfaction to relish his stunned expression before the fight began. 

“Is somebody going to take care of the beeping thing?” Clint asked, sounding almost bored but the underlying tension was clear, “You know, in case it goes boom and we all die?”

“Falcon -”

“I’ve got it,” Tony replied, having snagged his suit between being cut loose by Natasha and locating the locked down armour.

“Iron Man,” Steve tried, wrestling his voice to professional instead of the frustrated worry he knew was going to come out, “stay down. Let Falcon handle it. We need you to -”

“Yeah, stow it,” Tony snapped and Steve could _hear_  the unsaid winces from his fellow teammates. Tony could probably hear it too and Steve knew that he was pushing back other expletives for that. 

“Falcon can take care of the tech, but this is a bomb,” Tony said eve as Steve kept his eyes in his fight, moving on automatic, “I’ll take care of it.”

“You need to - they drugged you,” Steve bit out, trying to keep his calm in the tone even as he backflipped away from Hyperion’s fist.

“I don’t need your misplaced concern,” Tony replied after a minute, sounding distracted and Steve knew that he had already accessed the bomb. There was a pause of fists flying, shield clanging into metal and energy bolts hitting before Steve heard Tony speak again. “I need to get the job done,” he said, quieter and grimmer, “You need me to get the job done.” 

On another day, Steve would have heard an emphasis on ‘you’. It would have been a contradictory feeling in his chest - warmth at knowing the importance of it and a mild worry that Tony put too much worth over Steve’s word. 

Today, Steve heard the emphasis on ‘me’. To a more lax person, it would have implied arrogance or ego. To Steve, it implied that Tony was clear in what he was expected to do. 

The worst part wasn’t that Tony thought that; it was that it was true in this situation. They did need Tony to take care of the bomb alone. But the reasons were surely different from what Tony had built up in his head. 

He really needed to resolve their earlier fight and clarify a few more things to Tony, Steve thought. He was working it out in his head, ducking and shoving Hyperion off him when he heard Carol’s voice, meaning that she had finally arrives after resolving the issue with -

“Tony, _no!_ ”

The cry was nothing like Carol, nothing like the smug trash-talking, brash and efficient teammate he knows. The friend who had eyed him strange when she had first caught him trying to ask Tony out on a date. 

Steve kicked hard at Hyperion and rushed away, knowing that the guy had taken the fall. He looked up, somehow knowing that the action, the disaster, whatever it was, it was going to be up in the air.

It was eerily familiar, the picture he saw painted on the sky. The blur of red and gold rushing away from them, wrapped around the megaton bomb, reminded Steve of the time Tony had done this in an alternate reality. 

That had been an imaginary world. Tony had come back.

This was the real world. Tony wouldn’t -

There was a crashing sense of detachment that came with angered grief. The crippling sense of helplessness wasn’t a luxury afforded and Steve had learnt that a long time back; through watching Bucky fall, his team wither away, feeling ice form around him, waking up in cold nights to a world he shouldn’t have belonged to - Steve knew that helplessness was a luxury and he didn’t care for it much. 

But watching a regret fly, watching Tony fly into the sun with his last words telling Steve that he would do this for him - that was a numbness that was new. Alien. Shattering. 

Steve looked down and heard the scrambling of the comm rather than watched the suit blow up. 

“No..” Thor’s whispered exhale of pain made Steve’s breath stutter but he kept his eyes down, swallowing and steeling himself. He had to - he had -

“So, are we done yet?” a voice asked from behind him and Steve froze, stilling before he forced himself to turn. 

Tony was eyeing him with a put-upon aloof expression, layers of confusion and concern under it. Steve willed his eyes to scan every inch of the man standing before him and Tony was frowning by the time he got to his face.

“Cap? Uh, Steve?” Tony prompted when Steve let out a shuddering breath, the aloofness giving way to concern a little, “Are you - oh -”

Steve dragged Tony in by his waist and curled around him, pressing their lips together, cradling Tony’s head with one hand and gripping his hip with the other. It was awkward and Tony was trying to talk, huffs of half-attempted words every time Steve parted for air, but Steve was still not sure about how he had gotten this chance, how Tony was still here. He held on and felt Tony soften, relax in his arms enough to turn the kiss a little gentler, coaxing Steve’s lips to take their time instead of rush. 

“Hey,” Tony whispered when they finally parted for air, voice hoarse but quiet, eyes opening to search Steve’s eyes, “hey, it’s okay. We’re fine. It’s okay.”

Steve let his forehead fall and pressed it to Tony’s, breathing in and out in forced puffs, not letting Tony move away for a minute before his grip relaxed. Miraculously, Tony didn’t move away even then.

“Steve, what -”

“Don’t leave me,” Steve blurted, low and hoarse and every fear he had nurtured since they had dragged back Tony from the other dimension falling from his lips, “I need - I trust you and I _know_  you can do a - a lot of things but just, please. Don’t go where -”

It wasn’t happening. He couldn’t force the words out and Steve thought with horrifying clarity that he was going to sob from exhaustion and the release of panic.

Tony inhaled deeply and Steve almost _did_  sob when he felt arms come up around him, matching him equally in their hold.

“It was just the suit,” Tony explained quietly, soft and understanding in his voice, “Autopilot mode. It was the only way out in the time we had.”

Steve breathed out and nodded, tight in his shoulders but Tony leaned in to brush a soft kiss to his jaw.

“And I don’t have any plans of leaving you,” he said, waiting till Steve met his eyes, smiling a little even as his eyes were mildly wet, “We’ve got a long way to go, Cap. You and me, we’ve got a long way to explore. I’m not interested in missing that for anything.”

Steve nodded again, his forehead skimming Tony’s, but smiled a little even if it was broken.

“Yeah,” he said and exhaled, letting go of the fear with it, “me too.”

They had a tomorrow to look forward to and Steve breathed easier. 


	17. Chicken Soup Is Good For More Than Just The Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Tell me this is not the first time someone’s made you soup.”

It was important to remember that Tony had fallen sick because of Steve. 

Well, Tony was alternating between muttering it under his breath and not-so-under his breath consistently whenever Steve tried to drag him away from heavy work, but it was true and Steve agreed. 

Not out loud, and not to Tony. At least not after the first 10 times. 

“Are you building yourself a metal cocoon?” Steve asked as he crossed his arms at the workshop’s entrance and stared at the mess Tony was making, slugging in his gait as he moved around, sniffling into a tissue.

“I already have one of those,” Tony quipped back, voice a hoarse scratch of sound and air, turning to smile tiredly at Steve, “that thing you call a tin-can?”

Steve had dealt with a hurt and bleeding Tony, a mind-controlled Tony, even a near-death Tony, but this sick and hyper-stubborn Tony was the first. It was both exasperating and mildly amusing, but worrying nonetheless. The infection hadn’t stuck to Steve for more than a few hours but Tony had caught it when he had administered CPR recklessly during the end of the mission, risking his life for Steve’s.

Jan had pointedly not commented on that and Steve was deeply grateful for small mercies. It was bad enough that his - crush if it was a safer term - had grown exponentially over the past couple of months but after the last few days -

It was just nice getting to take care of Tony, that was all.

“I thought we agreed that you’d get some rest and stick to working from your room for today?” Steve asked as he stepped in, noting the way the bots moved around anxiously, clearly having noted something wrong with their creator. 

“I don’t need to workout to work, Cap,” Tony shrugged, a stubborn tilt to his jaw that made Steve want to shake him and carry him to bed in equal parts. 

“Agreed,” he conceded, “but you are also not doing yourself or anyone else any favours by straining yourself when you could recover faster with a bit of rest.”

“I have work,” Tony frowned and Steve nodded but eyed the holograms spinning before them.

“Not something that can’t be done from your room, though,” he pointed out and Tony sighed.

“I’m not a kid, Steve, I’ll be fine”

“I didn’t know that kids were the only ones who were allowed to be sick nowadays,” Steve said mildly and gentle nudged Tony’s shoulder with a smile when the genius scowled at him, “C’mon, Shellhead, I’ll even fill you in on some recent SHIELD gossip and get you my special soup.”

“You have a special soup?” Tony raised a brow, red-rimmed eyes blinking slowly as he allowed himself to be steered away from his worktable, “Where do you order it from?”

Steve blinked and frowned a little.

“I make it,” he corrected and saw Tony look surprised for a flash, “That’s what you do for the sick times.”

Tony hummed non-committedly, but Steve ignored the avoidance of a comment for then, taking the victory of luring Tony away from the workshop.

Tucking Tony into his bed with a lot of cajoling, arguing, and bribing, Steve was about to pull away to go to the kitchen when Tony’s hand shot out to catch his wrist.

“You don’t have to,” he said softly, a tight expression on his face and Steve bit back a frown.

“It’s not a trouble, Tony,” he assured, wondering why Tony would consider it one. It is what anyone would do for someone who was sick. It was what friends did, what people did for those who needed that extra bit of comfort on the down days.

Tony stared up at him for a minute, conflicting emotions flashing over his face before the hand left Steve’s wrist. 

Steve thought about it throughout the time he prepared some warm chicken soup and noodles. It didn’t sit right with him that Tony considered Steve so distant that he wouldn’t do something this simple for him. If it had been Steve lying sick, he knew that Tony would have worked himself to exhaustion trying to make Steve better or feel as comfortable as possible. Why did he not believe that Steve would try to do even a morsel of the same for him?

The tray was laden with a bowl of hot soup and some fresh fruits to soothe Tony’s stomach after a while, and Steve tamped down the niggling hurt before carrying it to Tony’s room.

“Good to see you still here,” he announced as he entered and Tony smiled wanly at him, eyes slightly wondrous yet troubled as he took in the tray Steve had brought for him. 

It _definitely_ wasn’t sitting right with Steve that such a minor act would surprise Tony.

“Let’s hear your verdict on it then,” Steve handed over the bowl with a soft smile and nodded at it, “Try it and tell me how you liked it.”

Tony eyed Steve strangely for a minute before picking up the spoon and blowing on the hot soup, taking a deep sip of it.

Steve watched as Tony’s eyes widened a bit and his smile turned appreciative.

“This is really nice, Steve,” he said sincerely, simple in praise but meaning the world to Steve, “Best chicken soup I’ve ever had.”

“Now, slow down there, fella,” Steve snorted, sitting down on the chair beside the bed, “I’m sure that’s not fair praise.”

Tony frowned, genuine puzzlement on his face as he took another spoonful of soup.

“No, really,” he shrugged and looked down at the bowl, “I might not know much about chicken soup in general but this is definitely the best I’ve had.”

“Which soups do you usually have when you’re down?” Steve asked curiously, leaning back into the chair and imagining the secret recipes that must have been passed down the Stark kitchens before. 

“Uh,” Tony took a big mouthful of soup, clearly taking time to answer, “I’m not usually a soup kind of guy.”

Steve frowned at that and eyed Tony.

“Well, I understand that, but,” he rolled a shoulder, “your Ma must have made you something when you got sick when you were younger, right?”

Tony quietly sipped at his soup and shrugged, a blank look on his face before he looked up at Steve with his press smile.

“Mom wasn’t really made out for the kitchens,” he said, like he was avoiding a better answer. Steve knew hints and bits about Tony’s childhood and hesitantly accepted that maybe Maria wouldn’t have been the type to be enthusiastic about cooking.

“Your butler then,” he said and watched Tony’s shoulder tighten, rising slightly like Tony was hunching in on himself. He must have caught himself doing it because he relaxed in a minute, keeping up his fake smile.

“I didn’t get sick much, Cap,” he answered easily and Steve -

He could detect bullshit in the toughest lies. It was possible that Tony was telling the truth, maybe, blessedly, he hadn’t fallen sick much as a child, but Steve had learned to pick Tony’s tells by now and it was clear that he was lying about something.

If he had been thinking less emotionally, Steve would probably have bitten back the question but it slipped out nevertheless.

“Tell me this is not the first time someone’s made you soup,” he blurted, too raw and knowing, digging into scars Tony was clearly hiding, “Sorry, I just - you don’t have to answer that.”

Tony dragged his spoon through the soup and kept his eyes averted, fixed on the broth, and Steve went over the implications in the non-answer. He hadn’t been from a rich family himself but Steve had always been aware of his mother trying to comfort him, making sure to get him to rest when his many illnesses flared up. They hadn’t been able to afford much but Sarah had always tried to scrounge up _something_  to soothe Steve the best she could. 

They hadn’t had much but they had care. Tony, it would seem, had everything but that.

“Well,” Steve cleared his throat and Tony’s hand tightened on the spoon, making Steve’s hand itch to loosen it, entwining his fingers with Tony’s, and tell him that it was okay. He couldn’t though, not right now, so he settled for smiling and nudging the edge of the bed, “What’s the verdict?”

Tony’s head came up at that, a slight frown of confusion before he understood the question and relaxed.

“I’ll hire you as a chef, Cap,” Tony grinned and Steve nodded approvingly, letting the unspoken truths lie. 

If he made sure to squeeze Tony’s shoulder and tuck his bedsheet tighter around him before leaving to let him sleep. well, it was nothing too big.

Even if it meant everything to both of them.

If Steve made Tony soup on some days even after he recovered, that was left unaddressed and simply accepted as a new tradition. 

It was probably poetic that Steve managed to finally kiss Tony over chicken soup, a few months down the line.

People did say it was good for the soul. 

The heart bit, Steve was certain they would find a new recipe to connect over.


	18. Wake Up Calls Don't Always Come Planned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt : "What could possibly go wrong?"   
> Going with 616 old married SteveTony

If anybody had told Steve a few decades back that he would have to assure his _husband_  about the kids being alright, he would have been - well, hopeful and a little skeptical. 

To be frank, he would have come to a screeching halt at the idea of being married. He liked to think that fate had been kind in that area.

“Hawkeye, check-in,” he called out and heard Kate sigh, all of the dramatics exclusive to her coming in that one gust of air. 

“Position secured, Commander,” she said nevertheless, her tone implying that she was doing it under duress, “just like the 100 times we’ve done before.”

“Out of which 99 times were Chavez pulling your ass out of a fire,” Prodigy snorted and Steve stifled a grin at America’s answering _damn right_  and Kate’s exasperated sound for her wife. 

“Does radio silence mean anything to you kids anymore?” Dani Cage asked and Steve kept his eyes peeled even as he rolled his eyes at the exaggerated coughing from Kamala. 

His wrist-signal vibrated and he flicked it on, lips curving into a smile even before the line connected. 

“Hey, Captain Handsome,” Tony greeted him, and Steve would _never_  get over that smile, the lines of age on his husband’s face not diminishing the glow of love he always radiated, every time he smiled at Steve. At 15 years of marriage, they were considerably past their honeymoon phase but Steve figured that he could be excused for being sappy even now, considering that they had missed out an equal amount of time before getting together finally - always the right emotions at the wrong time. 

It had taken them long but it had been worth it to have every second of the life they had built together. 

“I thought you were going to lay low this time?” Steve teased and raised an eyebrow at the scoff he got over the hologram.

“You didn’t really expect me to suffer three hours of Super Sonic Dog Cops season 12, did you?” Tony asked drily, his silver hair a messy mop on his head, possibly from running his fingers through them constantly, “Also, I thought you were going to wind up soon?”

“It’s just a drill, Tony,” Steve repeated for the fifteenth time since he had begin this routine, fond and amused at Tony’s mock-scowl, “You know I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. Why don’t you finish up your chat with Miles by then?”

“Miles has banned me from calling him till tomorrow,” Tony said imperiously, miffed at having to obey one of his favourite proteges’ orders, “Apparently I’m _hovering_.”

“I cannot possibly see why he thinks that,” Steve said deadpanned and saw the twinkle in the blue eyes he had fallen in love with decades ago. 

“You mock me, but I still have Kate’s last report,” Tony quipped, the amused mischief evident in his voice, “Do we need to refresh your memory, old man?”

“Who’re you calling you old, Mr. Stark?” Steve shot back, a smirk on his face as Tony rolled his eyes with a laugh, “I’ll have you know that I’m still handsome to my husband and he’s the smartest man around.”

“Do they even realize we’re here?” America asked over the comm and Steve made a face even as Tony grinned. 

“Fine, I’ll concede. Now wrap up and come home soon. I cannot stand another episode of this.”

“It’s just one more drill, fella,” Steve said, dropping the old time nickname and Tony’s eyes softened even as his lips twitched.

“Yes, one whole drill,” he commented, “what could possibly go wrong? Me destroying our entertainment system? Cage throwing a surprise? Hawkeye -”

The explosion caught him off guard and not much could do that anymore. Steve had been through so many battles by now that his instincts were honed in to a remarkably swift reaction time.

But there was always an exception. And it was always Tony.

The hologram fizzled and died out but not before Steve saw Tony ducking as the room exploded into smoke and fire lashed onto the screen.

For a minute Steve froze, feeling his age crash into him, feeling all the precarious years of happiness slam into his gut as he watched Tony’s face disappear.

The next minute he was up, hearing Dani call-out to end the drill, the entire team pulling themselves up ad out from their spots as one, moving forward to the exit. 

There were no words needed. They were used to this. They had pulled and rescued and lost enough teammates and friends to explosions over the years.

And this was Tony. 

Steve was aware of the orders being snapped but his feet moved towards the advanced skyjets on their own, boarding them without pause, strapping in and putting in the coordinates of his home. 

_What could go wrong?_

Tony was one of the oldest superheroes around and he had to have gotten the suit to him in time.

_What could **possibly**  go wrong?_

They had been through worse, survived worse, survived _death_. Tony would be fine.

_What could -_

Steve was older than centuries but he had never felt the age, the years and moments of countless emotions burn through him at this rate like then. 

He had not feared death till then. He had died but not really _feared_  death.

Because it had been him who had died. Not Tony.

Not his Tony.

The possibility, the very probability of losing Tony, of losing everything even when Steve knew that everything was finite - it brought a rush of reality and realization to Steve. 

They had been discussing retirement, an altogether vacation from their jobs to simply - live together for a while. Tony had been conflicted but also wistful, the idea of being just Steve’s husband and an old man in his home being both strange and alluring. Steve had been ambiguous on it despite his history of wanting to live a normal life from time to time. 

He had been happy. He had held everything he wanted in his arms and heart finally. 

There was nothing to lose and Steve hadn’t really entertained the possibility of things going wrong.

“Commander, incoming,” Kamala called out and Steve took the call on his private line, shaking off the rush of emotions.

The line crackled open and Steve almost crashed the jet at the sound.

“Hey, I’m fine,” Tony said, words tumbling out in a rush, “it was just a stray Waspbot. Apparently, Nadia lost control over one of her prototypes. Again. She just -”

“Where are you?” Steve bit out and Tony paused, always catching on to Steve’s tone.

“Still in the mansion,” he said and Steve could hear his calming breath, “Honey, I’m fine. It was just a minor explosion. It’s almost under control.”

“I’m closing in,” Steve said instead of commenting on that because Tony’s ‘under control’ had a far too wide range. 

When Steve finally landed on the mansion’s roof and saw Tony land in the suit, tired but smiling sheepishly, he let himself move forward till he had Tony in his arms.

“Scared you, did I?” Tony whispered softly into Steve’s own pale hair and Steve breathed him in, letting the sense of an umpteenth chance granted fill him.

“No,” he replied and breathed out, “No, I think I’m finally not scared anymore.”

Steve held his family, his husband, in his arms and let the fear of obsoletion go. It was time he finally stayed home. 

He would always have this. Always need this. Maybe it was time to try being just Steve Rogers-Stark. 

If anything could possibly go wrong, well, he had it on good record that they could find a solution.

Together.

“We’re going to be just fine,” he pressed the words into Tony’s temple and held on.


	19. The Best Friend's View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Tony’s fine! (Steve,) you’re the one with the bullet holes!”   
> This is Rhodey's POV.

The explosions were never-ending around him and Steve looked like he was moving on auto-pilot. It was clear to Rhodey that Cap wasn’t really paying attention to the dwindling fight, letting muscle-memory direct his shield onto the AIM personnel.

Well, Rhodey hoped Cap was moving on auto-pilot because he was hardly showing any signs of slowing down for a guy who had been shot thrice in close range.

“Widow, cover Cap,” Rhodey grit out as he ducked an energy beam and gunned for the yellow-suited guys holding the energy cannon, “I’m going to get him out of the zone.”

“Negative, War Machine,” Clint replied before Natasha could confirm, “Cap’s not gonna move. Stay in your zone.”

“I’m almost done,” Rhodey countered, weaving in and out of the firing range with ease, “Give me a distraction and I’ll take them out.”

It was clear that Clint was going to argue, God knew the guy liked to argue when he was tensed, but then a loud crackle of thunder filled the air and Rhodey suppressed a vicious grin as Thor took out his targets in one fell swoop.

“And apparently I’m done,” Rhodey said with a touch of manic glee to his voice, something he had shared or maybe picked up from his best friend over their shared madness spanning two decades, “Widow, cover now.”

Natasha was clearly in agreement when she dived into the fray and attracted the handful left to her attention, leaving Cap open for Rhodey. The War Machine armour did a smooth dive and Rhodey had just enough time to throw out a “Heads up!” before he had snagged Steve from the ground.

He was anticipating the guy to sag a little, take a breather before his blood-loss could be treated.

He was not expecting the guy to grow tense and glare daggers at Rhodey.

“Take me back,” Steve ordered, low and dangerous, “Take me back now, War Machine.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you bleed out so you can prove you’re superhuman,” Rhodey commented but then bit back a wince when he noted the spaced out, cold look on Steve’s face. It looked like his brain had gone into a dark place. Like he was fighting multiple wars in his head.

“Cap,” Rhodey started and then tightened his grip when Steve tried to twist away, “Dammit, Cap, stop struggling!”

They almost crashed into a building and Rhodey locked his arms around the bulk of the guy.

“Rogers! Calm down!”

“Drop me!” Steve snarled and Rhodey had never backed down in the face of any intimidation but this man had an edge of desperation that was more pitying than threatening, “I need - I need to -”

“You need to get to the evac, Cap,” Rhodey curled a little more around Steve before he landed and knelt to drop Steve there.

“Rhodes -”

“Jesus, Cap, just go get patched up!”

“No!” the word was forceful, bit out with all the snarl of a predator but Rhodey simply stood his ground, “They have the gun. We need to get the ray gun to reverse Iron Man’s - Tony needs -”

Rhodey had seen people admire Tony. Hell, he had admired the man for over twenty years and he knew how easy it was to either love or hate the guy. Tony indulged in extremes, always a contradiction in connections, and a mess of regularity. He inspired a level of complete loyalty or disgruntled suspicion.

In Steve, it was something else. Something that Rhodey had seen in Pepper when Tony had been taken by the Ten Rings. Something fiercely intimate and protective.

Something he wished both of them would address soon because the entire world could see it clearly.

“He’s my best friend,” Rhodey said, hating, absolutely hating any sort of vulnerability he was about to let out but he knew what it was holding as worth, “I have never stopped looking out for his ass and I’m not going to do it today.”

“He needs -”

“Tony is fine, Cap!” Rhodey said, even though it wasn’t completely true, even though he knew that they would need the ray gun of whatever thing AIM had used on Tony during the fight. It didn’t matter because Tony would be fine. Neither Rhodey nor Steve would give him a choice about it, “You’re the one with the bullet holes!”

And he needed Steve to be safe because Tony would survive anything, anything that was thrown his way, but he would not survive if Steve Rogers wasn’t alive when he opened his eyes.

“We’re fine, Cap, just,” Rhodey saw the med team rush towards them and moved away, ready to get into the air again, “Get patched up, Cap.”

Rhodey flew away before Steve could say otherwise.

When they finally cleaned up and came for the debrief, Rhodey was stunned to see Steve missing from the medbay.

“Where is he?” he asked, a frown on his face.

Coulson simply stared at him, an exhausted but grim look on his face and something clicked in Rhodey’s mind.

Of course. Of course.

It wasn’t surprising to find Steve standing outside the special ward where Tony lay unconscious, fine but still resting.

“You know, there will be no point in trying to tell him to cool it if you set a bad example yourself,” Rhodey said as he came to stand beside the man who wore an Avengers sweatshirt now, cleaned up but still not completely okay.

Steve spared him a glance, checking for wounds, always checking for injuries on everyone, before his eyes went back to Tony’s form.

“You went out of command today,” he said, quiet and calm, a drastic change from the man Rhodey had pulled from the field.

Rhodey considered that, agreeing with the fact but also looking at the calm on Steve’s face. It was like the soldier had found his balance again, his eyes never straying from the sleeping form of his partner, his friend.

The man he so painfully loved that Rhodey was half embarrassed and a lot impressed.

“You would have done the same,” Rhodey replied and didn’t clarify, keeping his eyes on his best friend as both men observed the man who had changed their lives with everything he was.

Steve remained silent for a few heavy minutes and then nodded once. An acknowledgment. An agreement.

Rhodey breathed out and mentally let his own panic seep out at the knowledge that his best friend and best friend’s future lay safe.

A few days later, when he found Tony cuddled with Steve on the common floor’s couch, not really watching the movie and chuckling softly at their own jokes, Rhodey knew that he had done the right thing.

Now it all depended on Cap and his Iron Man to figure out the rest.

Somehow, he felt that they would find a way.


End file.
